The Halfling and the Dragon
by The Lady Of Purpletown
Summary: A series of cute, short moments of Bilbo and Smaug's daily life in the Shire. A collaboration with the amazing Jlocked. Will be updated irregularly when we happen to come up with something, but the chapters can be read on their own.
1. Smaug

When Bilbo had entered the Lonely Mountain, stiff with fear after hearing all those stories about the murderous, gigantic beast living there, he had not expected things would go quite so easily. Carefully, he had made his way through the gold and jewels, hearing Balin's gasps behind him, any moment expecting flames or long sharp teeth piercing his body. Yet nothing happened. He had almost become convinced that the dragon was out, or had not existed at all, when he accidentally stepped on its tail and caused an angry squeak. Two little black eyes had been glaring up at him. Smaug had been _slightly_ smaller than he was usually described in the stories.

Now, the deadly beast lay curled up on the second pillow, to the left of Bilbo's head, dark smoke circling out of its nostrils with every soft snore.

Bilbo knew the act. When Smaug really was sleeping, he would seldom smoke. But Bilbo didn't mind playing along and he stretched out his hand, gently running a fingertip over the tiny paw next to Smaug's head. Immediately, the dragon snapped at his finger, deliberately missing.

"I am fire!" Smaug said with an air of indignation. His voice slipped a little over the tones. Not been awake for long, then. "I am death! You know how dangerous it is to attack me in my sleep."

Bilbo chuckled and folded both hands around the dragon to put him on his chest. For someone who didn't like to be attacked, he was nuzzling his thumb quite a lot.

"Pray tell me, oh Smaug the Magnificent, what do you say about some breakfast?"


	2. Hoard

_In memory of Jlocked's rats._

* * *

It was a beautiful morning in the shire. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the kettle was boiling and...

"Screech!"

Bilbo groaned. "Smaug! _What_ are you doing?" he called, taking the kettle from the fire.

The tiny dragon sped in through the window, circled Bilbo's head three times, then zoomed through one of the doors and disappeared.

Excited, possibly outraged voices could be heard outside.

Bilbo sighed. How many times did he have to tell him to stay inside? How were the neighbours ever going to think he could become a respectable hobbit again if his _dragon_ terrorised them day after day?

He went after Smaug, not immediately seeing him, but suspecting that he had hidden under the pillows in the bedroom as usual. "Smaug?"

There was a huff and a small tendril of smoke rose from Bilbo's open sock drawer.

Bilbo opened the drawer a little further and spotted red scales between the colourful wool. "Come on," he said, scooping Smaug up in his hand. "You'll have to tell me at some point."

"No," the little beast hissed. "Go away. Put me back."

"No." Bilbo pulled the drawer further open and kept a good hold on Smaug so he couldn't fly off. "Ah... What do we have here?"

"They're mine," Smaug screamed, struggling. "Thief. Thief. Don't touch them..."

"Really? Buttons?" Bilbo picked a stack of them from behind his socks and held them up. "They're not even proper brass ones. What did you plan to do with them?"

"They're mine. Put them back..." Smaug screeched in panic. "You dropped the blue one. My pretty blue one."

"Smaug, you can't go around pulling buttons from people's clothes. No wonder they were in such a panic. You should bring them all back where they belong." He gave the dragon a stern look.

Smaug glared back. "They're mine," he hissed. "I found them."

"You _stole_ them."

Smaug straightened up as best he could in Bilbo's grip. "I am a dragon," he said. "I claimed them, they are now mine."

Bilbo tried not to smile. "That's not how it works. And they're not even gold. Why would you care about them?"

"They're pretty. And people will fight to protect them. Therefore they have worth." Smaug raised an eyebrow in the way that usually meant that the hobbit was clearly not capable of understanding such matters. "Now put them back and release me."

"You do realise that people are protecting them because they don't want to walk around naked, right?" Bilbo shook his head. "I'm not sure it's worth it to sort them all out so we can bring them back to the right people, but no more button-stealing. Or you won't be getting any more of my lamb stew."

Smaug huffed again and then sneezed, almost singing Bilbo's sleeve.

Bilbo giggled. "And no more storing your hoards between my socks."

"Why?" Smaug muttered, wriggling his way out of Bilbo's hand. "There was plenty of room for both."

Bilbo smiled. "Yes, but that's not where _I_ store my buttons."

Smaug looked up at him. "Where are your buttons?" he asked, his tail twitching.

"Now, there's a challenge to keep you busy." Bilbo grinned.

Smaug's wings rustled but then stopped. He glared at the buttons in Bilbo's hand. "Put those back," he demanded. "They are not yours. Thief."

"Not in the sock drawer," Bilbo repeated, before turning and carrying Smaug with him to the kitchen.

"But..." Smaug protested. "That is my lair. My treasure belongs in my lair. My nice woolly lair..."

"_My_ socks. Choose another lair," Bilbo said.

Smaug pouted. "But everywhere in this filthy little hole is already filled by your things..." Then he perked up. "If I burn the socks, there'd be more room. Or maybe I could clear the linen cupboard."

"Don't you even think about it! I'd throw you out and let the neighbours do with you whatever they want!"

"I'd kill them all," Smaug said haughtily. Then he sighed and seemed to diminish. "I'm a dragon," he muttered. "I have to have a lair..."

"How about we make you a nice pillow lair in the bedroom? Then you can sleep there," Bilbo said.

"Will you build me a pillow cave?" Smaug asked, his tail twitching again. "A big one?"

"Only if I don't find any stolen goods in it," Bilbo warned.

"Only _my_ things. I promise." Smaug did the other eyebrow thing. The one that meant he was trying to look honest. "Now go make it. And put my buttons in. Including the pretty blue one that is still on the floor where you dropped it."

Bilbo shook his head. "I want my tea first."

Smaug considered this for a moment. "Do I get tea too?" he asked. "And biscuits?" he added as his small stomach growled.

"Of course," Bilbo said. "I'll give you your bathing cup."

Smaug looked up at him and began purring. At least that was what he called it. It involved a lot of sparks flying from his nostrils as his throat vibrated, making a strange, erratic hum.

Bilbo chuckled and put him down to fill the teapot with hot water and a few scoops of smoked tea. It had been an accident when Smaug had had a cold and was sneezing a lot, but it actually tasted very nice.

"Don't forget the biscuits," Smaug said, circling the table impatiently.

Bilbo brought the tea and a box of homemade biscuits to the table and then made himself comfortable in his chair, hoping that Smaug would give him a moment to relax.

Smaug devoured half the biscuits, then sploshed into his tea, squirming and fluttering so that half of it had gone over the sides of the cup before he settled down with a contented sigh.

Bilbo shook his head and got up again to find a cloth and wipe up the tea. Then he finished his own cup and enjoyed the quiet as long as it lasted.

Smaug just lounged in the tea for a while, blowing the occasional bubble with his long snout.

Then, as the tea was beginning to cool, he called out plaintively: "Bilbo...?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm bored. Will you throw biscuits for me to catch?"

Bilbo sighed. "Only if you let me dry you off first. I don't want you to splash tea everywhere."

"We could go outside. You can toss them much higher out there," Smaug suggested. "And we can make smoke rings."

"Fine," Bilbo smirked. It would end in a miffed Smaug, indignant that Bilbo could blow larger rings than the small dragon ever could, but that was always worth it. He got up to fetch Smaug's fluffy towel in the kitchen and spread it out next to his cup.

Smaug hopped onto the towel and then shook himself, sending a fine spray of tea all over the table. He looked up at Bilbo. "Ready," he said, his wings flapping.

Bilbo rolled his eyes and folded the towel around him for a moment, catching the last drops. "_Now_ you're ready. Come on." He held out his hand.

Smaug looked at his hand. Then he jumped into the air and zoomed out the window with a happy: "Wheeeeh!"

Bilbo chuckled and followed him out, although he chose to use the door instead.

Smaug was already busy chasing butterflies, shooting small flames at them, though careful not to actually scorch them. The one time it had happened, the little dragon had been so shocked he had hidden under a bush for almost a day, crying his eyes out.

"Catch!" Bilbo called, throwing a biscuit up in the air.

Smaug did a loop and deftly caught the biscuit, then fluttered down to settle on Bilbo's head to eat it.

"What did I tell you about eating on my head?" Bilbo said, grabbing the dragon and lowering him to his shoulder. "Nice catch, though."

"Th'nks," Smaug mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit. Then he took off. "Higher this time," he called as he soared upwards.

Bilbo obediently threw the biscuit up as far as he could.

"Woohoo..." the dragon exclaimed, diving at the biscuit.

Ten biscuits later, he was draped over Bilbo's shoulder, making a very half-hearted attempt at blowing smoke rings while purring happily.

Bilbo too almost felt like purring. A sunny day, his dragon calmed down and snuggly, and a good pipe in his mouth. He blew a big ring and grinned, happy with himself. "Can't you fly through that one?"

"Could," Smaug said, following the ring with his eyes. "Not going to." He yawned mightily.

Bilbo giggled. "Shall I bring you to bed, oh Smaug the Magnificent?"

"If you must," Smaug said, blinking sleepily.

Bilbo chuckled. "I don't, but it seems like a good idea..."

Smaug yawned again and then curled up, covering his nose with his tail.

Bilbo smiled and went inside. He'd make sure Smaug would wake up in his new pillow lair.


	3. Thieving Mice

Stomp! Stomp!

Squeak squeak scuttle...

Smaug's tail twitched as he chased the stampeding mice across the kitchen floor. Finally he had them all cornered and drew in a deep breath as his tiny chest began smouldering.

"Smaug? Teatime!" Bilbo's voice sounded from a few rooms away.

A moment later, Smaug came fluttering through the door, carrying a bunch of smoking, crispy rodents by their tails.

He dumped them on Bilbo's plate and looked up at him, beaming with pride.

At first, Bilbo couldn't utter a word. "Those are my great-aunt's plates!" he managed eventually. "Get. Them. Off!"

Smaug cocked his little head. "Something wrong?" he asked, sounding slightly puzzled. "Would you prefer them raw? Should I bite their heads off next time?"

"Hobbits don't eat mice," Bilbo said in a slightly strangled voice. "Get them off my plate."

Smaug huffed. "Mice are nice with tea..." he muttered, before picking them up. Then suddenly he jerked his head up and glared at Bilbo. "Hbbt's eet rbbts," he mumbled around a mouthful of tails.

"Not with tea," Bilbo said, looking a little disgusted. "And not... whole..."

Smaug did a kind of shrug before putting the toasted mice down on the table. Then he tossed one into the air, caught it and gulped it down with a lot of crunching and smacking of his jaws.

Bilbo sighed. "Where did they even come from?"

Smaug sucked in the tail before answering, "Kitchen. They were in the biscuits." He sniffed the other mice, then picked one up.

Bilbo frowned. "Well, then I suppose I should thank you for catching them. We can't have mice eating our provisions."

"You're welcome," Smaug said, tossing and catching the second mouse.

"But you'll really need a bath now. A proper one, not just a cup of tea. And I'll have to brush your teeth."

Smaug hissed and flinched. "No way," he growled. "You are not touching me."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. "You smell of blood and you have bits of mouse on your snout. I don't want them all over my hole!"

"Fine..." Smaug picked up the last mouse and soared out the window.

Bilbo sighed again. The dragon had completely spoiled his appetite. And who knew what he would be up to now. If Bilbo was lucky, Smaug would have a quick wash in the brook, but he shouldn't get his hopes too high. Probably he'd get distracted by another tasty bite on the way there and be even more smelly by the time he returned home. At least the neighbours were getting used to him. As far as they would ever accept a dragon in the Shire.

Bilbo got up to return his teapot to the kitchen and looked out the window, but the flash of red scales was nowhere to be seen.

...

Smaug was gone all day. Or so he let Bilbo believe. Somehow, the little beast had gotten back inside and hidden in the hobbit's bed for a long nap.

He had, in fact, been by the creek to wash, but had then been slightly distracted by a duck. So rather than getting clean, he had only managed to mix the blood and charred fur with a lot of mud and a few feathers. But dragons are not too concerned with such things and he slept just fine until Bilbo decided to make it an early night and entered the bedroom.

"Smaug!" he groaned, looking at the mess that had once been clean white sheets. Of course the dragon had burrowed into them so that hardly a spot had remained clean. And the pillows looked as if they had fallen into a mud puddle. "I hate you," the hobbit sighed unhappily.

Smaug, still half asleep, blinked up at him. "What?" he asked and yawned.

Bilbo picked him up, opened the window and put him on the windowsill outside. "Out," he said flatly.

Smaug shook his little head, trying to clear it of sleep. He looked up at Bilbo and did 'the eyes'. "Whyyyy?" he whined. "Don't you want me anymore?"

"Look at what you've done." Bilbo turned and pointed at the bed, his finger trembling. "Look."

Smaug hung his head and whimpered. "You said I could sleep in your bed. When you brought me here," he whispered.

"You could. But not with a ton of mud on your scales! Now I have to change the sheets before I can sleep. It's just... too much." Bilbo shook his head.

Smaug just looked at him. Then he jumped off the windowsill and hid under a hydrangea. A moment later, shrill wails filled the air.

Bilbo ignored him and went to work making his bed, now and then grumbling under his breath. When he was finished, he returned to the window. "Be quiet," he mumbled.

There was a tiny hiccup and then the wailing stopped.

"Thank you. So will you let me bathe you or will you sleep outside?" Bilbo asked matter-of-factly.

"Does it matter?" Smaug sniffed. "You hate me anyway..."

"True," Bilbo said with a small shrug. "So what will it be?"

There was a long pause. "I won't come inside when you hate me," Smaug muttered, waddling out on the far side of the bush, heading for the gate.

For a moment, Bilbo hesitated. Of course Smaug was still welcome. If he was honest, he really was quite fond of the little dragon. But on the other hand, he had to put up with a lot. And he had just wanted to go to bed.

"Where will you go?" he eventually called after him.

Smaug shrugged. "Home," he said. "To the Lonely Mountain."

"You do realise that's a far way from here, right?"

"Of course," Smaug said. "There's no rush. No one waiting there." He tried pushing the gate open.

Bilbo sighed. "Come back. I'll give you a bath and then we can sleep. I can't go catching mice myself, can I?"

Smaug paused and looked back at Bilbo. "Do you still hate me?" he asked.

Bilbo pretended to think for a moment. "Just a little," he said. "I'm sure it'll pass."

Smaug flicked his tail and stuck up his snout. "Come and get me when it does," he said and turned away.

Bilbo sighed. Why did the dragon have to be such a dramaqueen? Hadn't he given him enough trouble already? Did he have to find his dressing robe and slippers to go out and find him on top of everything? He _really_ just wanted to go to bed. But he couldn't let the little dragon stay out in the cold all night.

Shaking his head at himself for giving in, Bilbo turned and put on the extra clothes. Then he opened the door.

"At this rate it'll be a while before you get to the Mountain," he remarked as he spotted Smaug sitting just outside the gate.

Smaug looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. "I don't know the way," he said. "I arrived here sleeping in your pocket, remember?"

Bilbo smiled back as he stepped closer. "I remember the snoring."

Smaug fluttered his wings. "Will you carry me?" he asked. "My wings are dirty. If I fly inside, I might make a mess."

Bilbo nodded. "Don't climb up my sleeve, though. You can sit on my hand." He crouched and reached out.

Smaug jumped up into Bilbo's hand and nuzzled his thumb. "Bath time?" he asked and then began to purr.

"Bath time." Bilbo smiled and brought him into the house.

...

An hour later, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Smaug sighed happily and rubbed his head against Bilbo's cheek. "Tomorrow I'll get the mice out of your study," he promised sleepily.

"Okay," Bilbo mumbled, absentmindedly stroking his fingertips over the back of Smaug's head and pulling the blankets a little further so they also covered the clean little dragon on his pillow. "Goodnight, Smaug."

Smaug yawned. "G'night," he muttered, and promptly fell asleep.


	4. Hay Fever

Bilbo inhaled and then sighed blissfully. Fresh summer air was waving in through the window, carrying the scent of the roses in the garden. And before him, on the stove, a nice stew was simmering, spreading its own delightful fumes. And next to that... Bilbo sniffed again. In fact, the new smell he could make out wasn't all that pleasant. Rather burned, actually.

"Smaug?" he called, suddenly realising that the dragon had been far too quiet during the last hour or so.

There was a pause, then a thrill scream filled the air. "Help... Help... My treasures... Help!" The call was followed by frantic flapping and loud ripping noises.

"What..." Bilbo's initial reflex was to run to the bedroom, where the dragon's voice had come from, to see what was up. But before he had taken more than a step, he turned, grabbed a bucket and ran to the garden to fill it in the well.

"Out of the way!" he warned as he stormed into the bedroom. Immediately he saw the small fire in the corner, where Smaug was frantically fluttering about.

Smaug ripped a smouldering pillow in half and then zoomed out of the way, cowering behind Bilbo. "M' twsure..." he muttered around the blue button clutched in his mouth. "S've m' twsure..."

Bilbo threw the water over the lair of pillows and with a hiss the flames died.

Within seconds, Smaug descended on the ruins, scattering them to get to his hoard. He whined grievously as he came upon some scorched wooden buttons. But underneath them, the ones of brass seemed to be okay. Dirty and wet, but unharmed.

He pulled the buttons from the wreckage, then looked up at Bilbo, his little eyes brimming with tears.

Bilbo was frowning. "What happened? I had told you to be careful in here. If it was because of a mouse..."

Smaug sniffed. "Grass..." he muttered, his voice sounding oddly muffled. "In the air. Made me sleepy. And sneezy..." He hung his head. "I'm sorry... I ruined my beautiful lair..."

Bilbo picked him up and gave him a hug. "It's fine," he said. "You can't help sneezing. Maybe a pillow lair for a dragon wasn't my cleverest idea after all. At least you could save your blue button, right?"

Smaug sniffed again and nodded. "The blue one. And the shiny ones. But the brown, the green and the one with the purple flowers are ruined." He sighed. "And now I have nowhere to put them."

"Well... I must say I'm happy this didn't happen in my sock drawer." Bilbo smiled down at the dragon in his hands. "Maybe we should build the new one outside."

Smaug considered this. "We could dig a hole," he suggested. "A proper cave."

Bilbo nodded. "That would probably be safe. But it might be harder to save your treasure if something goes wrong in there... After all they're only a bit scorched now."

"Build one?" Smaug offered. "Out of boulders and bricks?" He perked up. "Like a fortress. Impenetrable."

Bilbo giggled. "I think you overestimate my skills."

"So get a dwarf to do it. You know dwarves."

"They live far away. And I think they'd realise the lair was for you..." Bilbo smiled. Smaug and the dwarves' relationship had been rather... strained.

Smaug pouted a little. "I guess so... Maybe something else... Do you have a cupboard you don't use? Or maybe just a drawer?"

Bilbo thought for a moment. "I think I have an idea. I'll show you when I've cleaned up this mess." He waved at the ruin in the corner. "Perhaps it's safest if you wait for me outside."

"My buttons," Smaug protested. "I need to watch over my treasure."

"Don't you trust me to take care of them?" Bilbo asked.

Smaug cocked his head and studied Bilbo. "I've counted them," he said before taking off and darting out the window.

Bilbo smiled and got to work.

Not much later, he came out with a small chest in his hands. It was actually a jewel box he had once got as a gift from Lobelia, when she had only been a child. He thought it was absolutely hideous, with those tasteless pale flowers on its fabric cover. But he had now covered it in black cloth, and he wouldn't exactly mourn if the dragon set it on fire.

Smaug landed on Bilbo's head. "What is that?" he asked, then tensed. "You were supposed to watch over my treasure."

Bilbo shook the box and it clattered. "I did follow your orders, oh lord dragon," he teased. "This is your new cave."

Smaug jumped down onto the lid of the box. He looked up at Bilbo. "How do I get inside?" he asked.

Bilbo chuckled and took the key from his pocket. "By letting me open it," he answered, while making the lock click and then pushing the lid up just a little to indicate that Smaug had to move.

Smaug took off, hovering just above the lid. "Is that the only key?" he asked.

"No," Bilbo smiled. He opened the box completely and put it down on the ground, showing the pile of buttons, including the scorched ones which he had cleaned up a bit, and the blue one in a central place between a new large, red wooden button and the small golden key on a bit of string.

Smaug almost forgot to flap his wings. "That is... Wow..." he said, alighting on the small pile. He sniffed around a bit and then looked up at Bilbo. "Will you ever lock me inside?" he asked, accusingly.

Bilbo giggled. "Only when you're very, very annoying. So you've been warned."

Smaug cocked his head. "Don't ever lock me inside," he said, his tone uncommonly serious. "No matter what."

Bilbo crouched down and scratched him behind his ear. "Okay," he said. "But if you want to do secret things, I can always close the lid for you without locking it. And then you can just fly up against it to come out."

Smaug nodded his tiny head. "I can open it. If it's not locked." He scuttled around inside the box, moving the buttons about, and then curled up on top of them. "Put it by your bed," he ordered. "I like to listen to you when you sleep."

Bilbo snorted. "I doubt there's anything interesting to hear while I'm asleep."

"Your breathing. I like it. It's calming."

"I'll put it there tonight," Bilbo smiled. "When there's less chance you start sneezing." He thought for a moment. "Maybe it's better if you sleep in your lair tonight. I wouldn't like you to set my bed on fire."

Smaug smiled up at him and nodded. "I'd like that," he said, knowing quite well that once the hobbit was asleep he could creep up onto his pillow if he wanted to.

...

When Bilbo woke up, he had the faint memory of the side of a leathery wing skimming his face just moments before. He turned over and stretched his hand to the place where Smaug usually lay curled up on the pillow, only then remembering he would be sleeping on his hoard that night. And yet, the empty spot felt very warm.

Bilbo sat up and blinked, sleepily trying to focus on the box in the corner. In the few rays of light that could sneak in past the curtains, he could make out the ball of red scales in the chest, very still and with his tail hanging a little awkwardly over the edge.

Rubbing his eyes, Bilbo got out of bed and went closer.

Smaug's tail twitched and he let out a soft snore.

Bilbo smirked. "I'll just let you sleep then, shall I?" he said very softly, before turning and walking towards the door.

"Close the lid," Smaug mumbled, pulling in his tail. "Too bright."

"Oh. So you aren't asleep after all?" Bilbo said, turning back.

"I was. You woke me." Smaug opened one eye to glare up at him.

"For a dragon, you're really bad at lying," Bilbo said, amused.

Smaug did not even dignify that statement with an answer, just closed his eye again and yawned.

"Sure you wouldn't rather sleep on my lap while I have breakfast?" Bilbo asked, his hand already on the lid.

"I'm good," Smaug grumbled. "Just close the lid. But don't lock it."

"Okay. Sleep tight," Bilbo said, smiling.

...

The hobbit kept rummaging about in the kitchen for about five minutes, making tea and preparing the eggs. Then he returned to the bedroom. The jewel box's lid was still closed. And yet, a small heap of dragon had found its place on the pillow.

"Well?" Bilbo asked, putting his hands in his sides.

Smaug did not respond. It seemed this time he really was asleep.

Bilbo chuckled softly and closed the door behind him as he returned to his breakfast.


	5. Trapped

Bilbo had almost forgotten how peaceful the hole could be when Smaug wasn't there. Peaceful, but also strangely empty. The dragon had flown out that morning, and Bilbo supposed it was in the animal's nature to need a little more adventure than he could get inside a calm hobbit's house. Still, it was almost time for tea now, so he would have expected Smaug to have returned by now to claim his share of the biscuits.

After checking that he hadn't sneaked into the bedroom, Bilbo decided to go for a walk. It was a nice day and then he could look out for Smaug on the way.

Once outside, he noticed that his closest neighbour, Merimas Noakes, was working in his garden.

"Good afternoon," Bilbo greeted automatically. "Nice weather, isn't it?"

"It's too hot," Merimas grumbled, tipped his hat at Bilbo and turned his attention back to his tomatoes.

Bilbo hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Did you perhaps see Smaug?"

Merimas grunted and then turned abruptly and walked into his hole.

Bilbo frowned and crossed his arms at such rudeness. But staring at Merimas' door wouldn't help teach the other hobbit manners, so he decided to move on. He had only taken a few steps before he heard a weak sound behind the hedge around Merimas' garden. A familiar whine, but very, very soft.

"Smaug?" Bilbo asked, starting to feel a little worried. He walked back to the fence, where he could look into the garden, but there was nothing red to see. Even the tomatoes were still rather green.

Over by the largest rosebush a bucket stood on the ground. It was upside down and held down by a rather large stone.

The whine seemed to rise in pitch as it was mixed with sobbing.

Bilbo looked up sharply. That really sounded like Smaug. But why would he be there?

Quickly Bilbo opened the fence and walked into the garden, hoping Merimas wouldn't be looking out the window. He rushed to the bucket, took the stone off and lifted it.

Smaug lay curled up on the ground under the bucket. But he didn't really look like himself. He was more brown than red, having tried to dig his way out through the dry dirt. Covered in dust and dead grass, he lay trembling, his head hidden under his wings. When he sensed the bucket being removed he yelped and pressed himself to the ground.

"Smaug?" Bilbo said incredulously, before kneeling on the ground, dirty clothes be damned. Carefully he stretched out a hand towards the dragon. "It's me..."

Smaug flinched but then looked up at him. He let out a piteous howl and then got up on his hind legs, reaching up to Bilbo with trembling paws.

Bilbo picked him up and soothingly stroked his small head, hugging him to his chest. "What happened?" he whispered. "How did you get there?"

"I... I was playing with a sparrow..." he hiccuped. "And then I... I burned a rose..." He sniffed, then howled: "It was an accident..."

Bilbo rocked him gently. "Of course it was. And then you hid under the bucket?" he guessed, still wondering how the dragon could have gotten trapped like that.

Smaug shook his head. "He tried to hit me... with a shovel..." He nuzzled Bilbo's hand sadly. "So I tried to duck under the bush. But I got tangled... And when I got loose he was waiting with the bucket. It... It was so heavy... And dark..."

"Merimas?" Bilbo was staring at Smaug and had stilled completely. "_He_ did this?"

"I don't know his name," Smaug huffed, rubbing his head against Bilbo's hand, just a little demandingly. "Evil, stupid hobbit."

Bilbo got up abruptly, his eyes shooting fire. "Hide in my hair," he ordered Smaug, before striding towards the door.

Smaug whimpered and scuttled up Bilbo's arm and behind his neck where he lay trembling. "I... I just want to go home..." he muttered.

"In a minute," Bilbo promised, before pounding on the door with all his force. "Merimas!"

At first there was no reply. Then the door was flung open. "What?" the hobbit snapped, glaring at Bilbo. "What's the meaning of this racket?"

"_What_ were you thinking?" Bilbo shouted. "What kind of a barbarian are you?" He felt the dragon shiver at the nape of his hair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merimas said gruffly, not meeting Bilbo's eyes.

"No? Trapping a small animal under a bucket? Trying to hit it? Doesn't ring a bell?" Bilbo couldn't quite remember being so angry. "If you ever raise a finger to Smaug again, you will be very, very sorry. I have friends among the elves, among the dwarves and among men. So you leave him alone and treat him well, you hear me?"

"That thing is not an animal," Merimas countered. "It is a beast. A menace. And you can't threaten me, Bilbo Baggins. I'm a respectable hobbit. I don't care for your outlandish friends." He stuck his nose up in the air and then slammed the door in Bilbo's face.

Bilbo stood seething, almost considering breaking the door down. "Respectable hobbits don't abuse animals!" he shouted, before turning and stomping away. "A _menace_," he mumbled, shaking his head. "_Fool_."

"I'm sorry..." Smaug muttered, clutching at Bilbo's hair to keep from falling off. "It really was an accident."

Bilbo realised he had almost forgotten about him. Sobered up a little, he plucked Smaug from his curls for another hug. "You don't have to be sorry. You were just playing. But that idiot..."

Smaug snuggled close to him. "You're not mad?" he asked. "About the burning? Or getting dirt on your clothes? And in your hair?"

Bilbo shook his head. "I'm only mad at Merimas. He really shouldn't have done that. But you're safe now."

Smaug was quiet for a moment. Then he whispered: "I was so scared."

"I wish I had come to find you earlier. I was starting to get worried, but I thought you had just wandered off a little further than usual..." Bilbo sighed and scratched the dragon behind his ears. "At least he couldn't hit you. A hot tea bath and you'll feel much better, right?"

Smaug sniffed. "I'm too dirty," he said. "I'm going to need a proper bath."

"Maybe, but... You're not too fond of proper baths," Bilbo said hesitantly. He really didn't want to distress Smaug any more.

"I'm not fond of buckets either," Smaug said, trying to smile.

"I wouldn't put you in a bucket," Bilbo said, answering his smile. They had arrived at his own hole and Bilbo opened the door. "Is there anything I can do to make a bath more agreeable to you?"

"Make sure it's warm," Smaug said. "Very warm. And doesn't smell of anything."

"I'll do my best," Bilbo smiled.

...

While Bilbo was doing the dishes after dinner, Smaug had gone off to find some comfort in his lair. All clean and well fed, he lay snoozing on top of the buttons when Bilbo finally entered the bedroom in his pyjamas.

"You probably don't want me to close the lid tonight?" Bilbo asked gently as he went closer to the jewel box.

Smaug hissed at him and crouched. "Don't touch it..." he snarled, smoke streaming from his nostrils. Then he stopped, coughed and looked slightly sheepish. "Sorry... I... I'm still a little nervous, I guess."

"It's fine," Bilbo said, crouching before him. "You've had a scary day after all."

Smaug nodded and then stood up, putting his front paws on the edge of the box. He looked up at Bilbo. "Why do they hate me?" he asked.

Bilbo bit his lip. "I don't know. I don't understand. I suppose... You're different than what they're used to. You represent the adventure they are so afraid of, because they cling to traditions. But... that doesn't give them any right to be so mean to you."

"You're not mean to me," Smaug said. "Thank you." Then he added: "Can I sleep on your pillow tonight? I promise not to sneeze."

"Of course." Bilbo smiled and picked him up, then walked over to the bed and put him on the pillow. "Is it okay if I blow out the candle?"

"As long as you stay," Smaug said.

Bilbo smiled. "Where else would I go?" He sat down, blew out the light and then joined Smaug, pulling him into a cuddle.

...

"Cower before me, pathetic mortals! For I am Smaug the Invincible. Woohoo!"

"Hmmm?" Bilbo groaned, rolling onto his back. It took a moment before he realised he could hear Smaug through the window. Sitting up, he saw the dragon flashing after a blackbird. Bilbo chuckled quietly. Probably he couldn't even do the bird much harm, but it looked like he was having the time of his life and had forgotten all about the events of the previous day. Luckily. He really hadn't deserved that. Bilbo remembered well how the little beast had looked at the thought that he would get locked into the jewel box. After all the room he had had under the mountain, it wasn't surprising that he was afraid of small spaces. But now he had the open sky above his head again, and branches to rush through.

Smiling, Bilbo stood up and looked how Smaug made a few loops. Even in all his enthusiasm, he seemed to avoid crossing the border of Bilbo's garden, but perhaps that was for the best.

Suddenly Smaug squawked and almost crashed into a large bough of one of the apple trees. He managed to steady himself, but then zoomed out of sight around the hill.

By the garden wall, Merimas Noakes was standing, pipe in hand, glaring after the little beast.

Bilbo frowned, but after a moment, Merimas turned and left.

Still, it took a long time before Smaug finally came back. Bilbo was once again beginning to get worried, but had started on breakfast anyway.

Without a word, Smaug landed on the table next to Bilbo's plate and looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" Bilbo asked, cutting off a piece of his bacon and pushing it to the edge of his plate.

"Of course," Smaug said, and grabbed the bacon. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason," Bilbo smiled.

Smaug cocked his head. "Where's my tea?" he demanded.

"I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so I didn't want to let it cool down," Bilbo said, getting up to get Smaug's bathing cup and fill it.

Smaug jumped in immediately and snuggled down so only his nose was above the tea. Then he let out a happy sigh and splashed around a bit.

Bilbo smiled and continued eating.

Smaug stayed in the tea until it was almost cold. Then he crawled out and curled up on the towel Bilbo had put out for him. He yawned and looked up at Bilbo. "People are always scared of me," he said. "But hobbits don't run away. You are very brave people."

"You're beginning to sound like Gandalf," Bilbo smiled. "I think you're just not all that scary..."

Smaug watched him intently, then nodded. "Very brave," he said. He waddled over to nuzzle Bilbo's hand. Then he jumped into the air and began beating his wings. "See you for dinner," he called and zoomed out the window.


	6. The Legend

The evenings were beginning to turn a little colder, which meant that Smaug had taken on a new daily routine of breathing the fire to life in the cooling rooms. He also made a slightly sleepier impression by times, making Bilbo wonder if dragons usually hibernated or if it was just the cold driving him to be even snugglier.

"I always wonder," Bilbo muttered one night when he was sitting in his comfortable chair, petting Smaug who was lying in his lap. "Why _were_ they all so scared of you that they left you all that treasure and the whole mountain to yourself?"

Smaug opened one eye to look up at him. "Because I am a mighty dragon," he said. "They ran for their lives when they saw me coming."

"But..." Bilbo stopped, thinking how he would phrase what he wanted to say. "I mean... Did they really see you?"

Smaug sighed. "Not at first," he said hesitantly. "Just one of the humans. A young boy..."

"Oh. And that was enough?" Bilbo asked.

Smaug got to his feet and scuttled around a bit in Bilbo's lap, seeming slightly agitated. "He was embarrassed," he said, finally. "Of being scared. So he... lied..."

"He made you bigger in his stories?"

Smaug glared. "As if he needed to. I laid waste to the entire city. Me... Not some giant monster..." He straightened up and flapped his wings, sparks flying from his nostrils.

Bilbo soothingly scratched him behind his ears. "But why? What had they done to you?"

There was a long pause, where Smaug just looked up at him. Then he turned his back to Bilbo and muttered: "Nothing..."

Bilbo frowned. "Then why did you do all that?"

"I'd been fishing," Smaug said in a tone that suggested that this explanation should be sufficient.

Bilbo blinked. "Fishing?"

Smaug nodded. "I like fish," he said. Then he stretched, yawned, curled up and promptly began snoring.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything more and picked up his book.

...

"Smaug! Lunchtime!" Bilbo called out the window.

Smaug dove in and skidded to a halt on the table. "Good," he said. "I'm starving." He sniffed the air and did a little skip, his tail twitching. "Fish? I love fish!"

"So I understood," Bilbo smiled, putting two plates on the table, each with a nicely baked trout.

Smaug waddled over to his plate and tore off a large chunk, gulping it down quickly. "D'l'scious..." he muttered, going for a second bite.

"Thank you." Bilbo chuckled and started on his own fish in a rather more civilised manner.

Smaug finished his in a matter of seconds and then eyed Bilbo's with great interest.

"That fish was almost as big as you are," Bilbo said incredulously. "Well, not quite, but... You can't still be hungry."

Smaugh belched. "Of course I can," he said. "I'm a dragon."

Bilbo sighed and cut a small piece off his fish. "The rest's for me, you hear me?"

Smaug nodded before swallowing down the fish. Then he sat down with a tiny thud and began cleaning his scales.

"No wonder they were scared," Bilbo mumbled between bites. "They might starve with a fish-eating monster like you around."

Smaug looked up at him, the tip of his tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Huh? Who?"

Bilbo had to hold back his laughter at the sight of Smaug. "The people of Erebor," he said.

Smaug sucked in his tongue. "No... That wasn't it..." he said. "But... the water was really cold and it was a windy day..." He hung his head a little and sighed. "So I got a cold..."

Bilbo automatically stretched out his hand to pet Smaug's neck at seeing his sad expression. "You started sneezing," he understood finally.

Smaug nodded. "I couldn't stop. And the house I was sitting on was all made of wood and..." He shrugged.

Bilbo bit his lip. "I see. Now I understand..."

"I tried to warn the people living there. Flew into a room... The boy... didn't like me..."

"The one who lied?" Bilbo asked.

"And it was really stupid. I mean... If I had been 'the size of a house', how would I have been able to fit inside his room?" Smaug sniffed. "I just wanted to tell him to get out of there..."

Bilbo picked him up and hugged him. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to remind you."

"It's okay," Smaug said and sniffed. Then he nuzzled into Bilbo's chest and let out a deep sigh. "It was so long ago."

Bilbo stroked his small head with his fingertips. "And everything is restored now. No reason to feel bad."

Smaug purred. "I don't feel bad," he said. "I'm an evil dangerous dragon... Smaug the Terrible."

Bilbo smiled fondly and put him down again.

Smaug fluttered his wings. "I'm going to hunt birds," he said, looking up at Bilbo. "I'll be back for supper."

Bilbo nodded. "Have fun."

Smaug grinned up at him and took off.

Bilbo couldn't help feeling like there was something more to Smaug's story, something he hadn't told him yet. But he figured he would find out at some point, if the dragon wanted to tell him.

...

When Smaug returned, Bilbo had a nice, fresh, crispy bread cooling on the table.

"Did you have a nice day?" he inquired, petting the dragon who had landed on his shoulder.

Smaug purred and rubbed his head against Bilbo's neck. "It was fun," he said. "I chased three blackbirds and had a small fight with a finch."

Bilbo smiled. "Did you win?"

Smaug huffed. "Of course," he said. "It didn't have a leg to stand on... Not literally..." he added quickly.

Bilbo giggled. "No, I wouldn't expect you to go for the legs. Now, how about making me some toast?" He waved at the bread and took the knife to cut off some slices.

Smaug skipped happily and then took in a deep breath and held it as his chest began smouldering.

"Careful," Bilbo warned quickly. "Just toast. Not ashes, please."

Smaug gave him a look that could probably be translated as: 'Don't be an idiot', and then let out a thin burst of flame, moving his head so that it spread over one side of the slice of bread leaving it just the right shade of brown. Then he drew in another breath, waiting for Bilbo to turn the bread.

"Amazing," Bilbo said happily, flipping the slice over. "That looks just perfect."

Glowing with pride, Smaug did an even better job with the other side. He belched out the last bit of flame and sat up on his hind legs. "You're welcome," he said happily.

"Thank you," Bilbo beamed. "Do you want some bread too?"

Smaug sniffed at it. "I'd rather have some biscuits. If you have any."

"If I have any! Such an insult to my skill of providing provisions. I'm a hobbit!" Bilbo shook his head and went to find the jar that held Smaug's favourites.

Smaug was skipping about on the table when he returned. "Throw one," he begged. "Just one..."

"Just one," Bilbo nodded, taking a biscuit and throwing it up above the table.

Smaug took off, caught it and did a couple of loops before settling down to eat it. "Th'nks..." he muttered.

"You're welcome," Bilbo said, taking a bite of his crunchy toast and waiting until Smaug had finished his biscuit so he could roast another piece of bread.

Smaug obliged and then stuck his head into the cookie jar, coming out with three biscuits jammed into his little mouth.

"Seriously, Smaug..." Bilbo shook his head.

...

They spent another quiet evening by the fire. Bilbo finished his book and then sat looking into the flames, not feeling like getting out of his comfortable chair to find other reading material.

Smaug was curled up on his lap, humming happily.

"What happened to the other houses?" Bilbo asked after a while, his voice a little faint as he was caught up in rather sleepy thoughts.

Smaug didn't answer at first, but his humming stopped. Then he muttered. "I told you... It was a windy day. And night..."

"The fire spread out..." Bilbo scratched his eyebrow. "And no one else would listen to you?"

"I didn't even try," he muttered. "After the boy started screaming I thought it was best if I... stayed out of sight..."

"Well... Perhaps you were right," Bilbo sighed, thinking of Merimas.

Smaug nodded. "I couldn't have done anything anyway. The city burned to the ground. More or less." He sat in silence for a while, just staring into the fire.

Bilbo stroked his wings. "I'm sorry."

Smaug shivered. "It's okay," he whispered. A moment later he was pressed against Bilbo's chest, seeking comfort against the memory of something that had long since been lost in the mist of legends.


	7. Handkerchief

Although the evenings were turning cooler, the days in the Shire were still sunny and warm. After lunch, Bilbo had put a chair in the garden to enjoy his abundance of colourful flowers. He was just considering going back inside because the earlier pleasant breeze was growing quite a bit stronger, when a gust of wind plucked his handkerchief out of his hand and tossed it into the air, where it got caught on a high branch of the nearest apple tree.

Surprised, almost indignant, he followed its movement. "Stupid wind," he muttered. "Smaug? Can you please get it for me?"

Smaug was splayed on a large flat stone, his wings spread out to get the most sun possible. His eyes were closed and he was smiling contentedly. The only reaction to Bilbo's words was a small twitch of his right ear.

"Smaug?" Bilbo tried again. "Are you sleeping?"

Smaug let out a deep sigh. "Yes..." he muttered, drew in his wings and rolled onto his side, stretching.

"No, you aren't." Bilbo got up and looked up at where the wind was trying to tug his favourite purple-and-green handkerchief off the branch to blow it even further away. It really was much too high for him to reach. "Smaug, please?"

Smaug yawned and opened one eye. "What?" he growled.

"Fetch me the handkerchief?" Bilbo tried to make his eyes a little bigger the way Smaug did when he was trying to achieve something.

Smaug snorted. "Seriously?" he asked and then closed his eye again, letting out a deep suffering sigh.

"It's my favourite," Bilbo pleaded. "It's just a second's flight for you."

"You have many handkerchiefs," Smaug countered. "And I'm sleeping."

"You're not. You're talking. And it will fly into Merimas' garden if the wind gets it loose."

Smaug's tail twitched at the mention of the neighbour. He considered for a moment. "Can't you just go get it then?" he asked. "He doesn't mind you in his garden, does he?"

"I don't want to see him. And it might fly further... Please, Smaug. You'll get a biscuit."

"One biscuit?" Smaug asked sceptically.

Bilbo glared at him. "Seriously? This one little thing is too much for the magnificent dragon?"

"If it's a little thing," Smaug asked, rolling onto his back, stretching all four legs into the air, "then why is it so important?"

"It's little to you. It's important to me." Bilbo suspected Smaug wanted a belly-rub, but he pointedly looked the other way.

Smaug sighed again. "I'm tired..." he complained. "I was chasing mice all yesterday. They're moving inside to get ready for winter."

"Fine. Then just lie there." Bilbo crossed his arms.

Smaug whimpered a little and wiggled his legs.

"I'm going indoors," Bilbo said, sighing. "Goodbye, my loyal handkerchief."

Smaug sighed. "You're mean..." he muttered and rolled back onto his side with a tired grunt.

"Right. Because I never take care of you and ask so much of you," Bilbo grumbled.

"Because you won't rub my belly..." Smaug muttered. "I probably would have helped you if you had only rubbed my belly." He slowly got to his feet.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "I'll rub your belly when I've got my handkerchief."

Smaug shrugged and curled up, hiding his nose under his tail.

In a few stomping steps, Bilbo got closer, flipped Smaug over with one hand and patted his belly two times quickly. "Now _get it_, thank you, you lazy creature," he said impatiently.

Smaug stared up at him, appalled. Without a word he got to his feet and took off. In a matter of seconds he'd retrieved the handkerchief and returned to drop it at Bilbo's feet. He glared at him and then disappeared in through a window.

"Thank you!" Bilbo called after him, picking up his beloved piece of cloth and going inside too, to find the biscuits.

Yet even the sounds of putting a large stack of biscuits on a plate on the kitchen table weren't enough to lure Smaug out. Bilbo let out a long-suffering sigh and decided to have a look in the bedroom.

Startled, he jumped back as soon as he had opened the bedroom door. "Smaug!" he yelped, a little shocked that the dragon was actually breathing fire at him.

Smaug just huffed and disappeared back into his wooden lair, using his tail to close the lid.

Bilbo shook his head. "I thought you wanted a belly-rub?"

"I did..." Smaug grumbled from inside the box. "A proper one... Before I flew up the tree..."

"Thank you for that," Bilbo said. "I really appreciate it. It's my favourite handkerchief and I've become rather attached to it." He paused for a moment. "Not more attached than to you, of course. I'd be happy to offer you biscuits and a belly-rub now to show my gratitude."

There was no answer from inside the box.

"But if you prefer to enjoy your lair for a while, that's fine too, of course," Bilbo said. "I just wanted to say thank you. I know such a small task isn't worthy of a magnificent dragon like you, but without you, my treasure would have gone lost."

There was a long pause. And then a strange sound came from the box. It sort of sounded like a dog yapping. But more... dragony.

Bilbo frowned. "Are you alright in there?"

"Woof!" Smaug answered.

"That probably means I should go... Right?" Bilbo felt confused. Smaug had never made those sounds before. Bilbo wasn't even sure he had ever met a dog.

"Isn't that what you want?" Smaug muttered. "Someone who'll fetch for you?"

"No. Of course not," Bilbo said, frowning. "It was just one time. Because I couldn't do it myself. You are my friend, not my servant or anything like that. But friends can do each other favours..."

"Like rubbing their belly before they go flying. When they're exhausted and sore from chasing sneaky rodents..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise it was possible to wear you out. With you being such a mighty dragon... I didn't think," Bilbo said.

A long pause followed, then: "I told you I was tired..." Smaug sounded rather deflated.

"My apologies for not listening to that," Bilbo said, bowing his head a little. "You must admit that dragons are not exactly famous for speaking the truth. And, if I may add, you never actually _asked_ for a belly-rub. You can't expect mere mortals to understand that much."

"But you're my friend... You should know..."

Bilbo smiled a little. "Even friends can't read each other's minds... Well, not all the time."

Another pause. "I lay on my back..."

Bilbo snorted. "If I started pestering you every single time you did that, I'd probably long have lost a finger to your teeth. I can't assume you want my attentions if you don't let me know."

"You could have asked..."

"Of course. It wouldn't get annoying _at all_ if every three minutes I asked something like 'Oh, magnificent dragon, would you appreciate a belly-rub now?'."

"I don't lie on my back that often."

"Still," Bilbo said. "You could be expecting something else in every different position. I can't know if you don't tell me."

"Now you're just being contrary... Don't you like rubbing my belly?"

"Of course I do. I'd prove it too if you weren't too stubborn to come out of your lair," Bilbo shrugged.

There was a bit of shuffling inside the box. "The lid is so heavy... And I am so very, very tired..."

Bilbo chuckled, stepped closer and opened the chest. "Hello there," he said, kneeling and smiling down at Smaug, who was of course lying on his back. He put his hand over Smaug's belly and started scratching gently. "Like that?"

Smaug purred and wiggled his legs eagerly, his tail flicking about inside the box.

"I'll take that as a yes." Bilbo grinned and continued for a while.

Smaug grinned too and nodded.

Then, after a long while of loud purring, Bilbo moved his hand a little to the side and started tickling.

Smaug giggled and squirmed. "Stop!" he squeaked.

"Oh, I thought you wanted to be tickled. You were on your back..." Bilbo said innocently, tickling some more. Then he picked Smaug up and gave him a squeezing hug. "Biscuits?"

Smaug snapped playfully at his fingers. "Yes... I'm starving!"


	8. Fair

"So... Do you want me to cook you some bacon for tonight? I probably won't be back in time for dinner..." Bilbo said, pulling his waistcoat straight.

Smaug looked up from his lair where he had been rearranging his hoard. "What? Why not?" he demanded.

"It's the yearly harvest fair!" Bilbo said. "I've been going on and on about it!"

"Oh..." Smaug shrugged. "You go on and on about a lot of things." He disappeared inside the box again. Then suddenly his head popped back up. "You're not actually going, are you?"

"Of course I am," Bilbo laughed. "It's great!"

Smaug jumped up to balance on the side of the box, his wings fluttering a little. "Oh? What's so great about it?"

"The atmosphere," Bilbo smirked, a little dreamy.

"Atmosphere?" Smaug huffed. "A bunch of silly hobbits milling about. And probably drinking too..."

"Well, I guess you have to be a hobbit to like it," Bilbo smiled.

"But you're not like the others. Surely you'd prefer something more adventurous."

"I'm still a Baggins, too," Bilbo shrugged. "I don't see why I can't have both."

Smaug looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he just huffed and disappeared back into his lair.

"So... Bacon?" Bilbo informed again.

"You're just leaving me?" Smaug asked, his head poking up again to give Bilbo an incredulous look.

"Well... It's just one evening. Well, and the afternoon. But I thought you'd be fine on your own. Having the house to yourself..."

"But that's boring..." Smaug whined.

Bilbo sighed. "You could manage being alone for so long. Surely this short time without me will be a relief to you."

"This hole is hardly like my former lair," Smaug said haughtily. "Not really anything to do here." Then his tone changed and he made the eyes. "Besides... I've been alone long enough, don't you think?"

Bilbo smiled a little, but also felt slightly exasperated. "You're also alone when you fly out every day. I'm not imprisoning you..."

"It's not the same," the dragon said, pouting.

"Well... I'd say you can come with me, but I can't imagine you'll want to... There'll be hobbits all around."

"They don't have to see me. But I could see them..." Smaug's eyes sparkled with mischief.

Bilbo hesitated. "I'm not sure there's a place to hide..."

"You have a hat. I've seen it."

"If you'll be under that all afternoon, you'll get twitchy," Bilbo said, shaking his head. "That won't end well."

"I won't," Smaug promised. "If I get bored, I can just take a nap. Your hair makes a fine bed."

"And then it'll tickle and you'll sneeze..." Bilbo said doubtfully.

Smaug looked worried for a moment, then shook his head. "I'll hold my nose," he said. "I can control myself."

"Still, I think the hat's a bad idea," Bilbo said, shaking his head. "It'll be warm and you can't see anything from there. Even being home alone would be less boring than that, don't you think?"

"We could make some holes," Smaug said. "Or do you have a better idea?"

"I could wear something with large pockets..." Bilbo mused. "If you're sure you want to come..."

Smaug immediately jumped up into the air and fluttered over to sit on Bilbo's shoulder. "Sounds good," he said. "Then you can give me treats."

"Of course..."

...

Bilbo had carefully stuffed everything he needed into the left pocket of his vest, leaving room for Smaug in the right. He thought he looked a little ridiculous, with a large bulge on either side, but he could always say that he had a cold and needed many handkerchiefs. As long as they didn't see anything move - but in the hustle and bustle of the fair, he wasn't too worried about that.

Now he was allowing himself to be carried along by a stream of people, approaching the many stalls which were lining both sides of the road. There was a mix of odours from the cheese, meat, bread, pastry, tobacco and beer, and he smiled to himself. This was the good old atmosphere of a large Hobbiton party.

His pocket sniffed, then mumbled: "Beer... Just what this world needs... A horde of drunken hobbits..."

"Shut up," Bilbo mumbled, earning him a dirty look from the hobbit he went past. He stopped near a stall serving meat pies. "These look tasty..."

"They sure smell good," the pocket commented. "Get me one."

"Two pies, please," Bilbo ordered.

"So... Hungry, Mr Baggins?" the hobbit behind the stall laughed, before he packed the treats for him.

"It's going to look really weird if I put one in my pocket..." Bilbo mumbled as he walked away.

"It's going to look weirder if your pocket starts smoking..."

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "You won't get anything if you start threatening me."

"But I'm hungryyyy..." His pocket shifted as the dragon tried to turn around.

"Sit _still_," Bilbo said, looking around a little desperately, hoping the hobbits around him didn't pay him too much attention. He quickly walked a little to the side, out of the throng of people, and then spotted some chairs and tables further away on the square, near the pub. There weren't so many beer drinkers yet at this hour. "Let's go sit there," he mumbled to his pocket.

Once he was sitting down, he stuffed the pie into his pocket, trying not to think of how messy and greasy it would become. "Enjoy."

For the next couple of minutes all that could be heard from Bilbo's pocket was munching, crunching and eager snarling. Then it was quiet for a moment, followed by a loud belch. "Thanks."

Unfortunately, at the exact moment of the belch, the waiter just came out to take Bilbo's order. "Mr Baggins?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm so sorry!" Bilbo said quickly. "My stomach seems a little upset today... I really didn't mean to be so rude."

"Well, it's not the day to feel sick, sir," the young hobbit said. "Are you sure you feel well enough for a drink?"

"Some ale might actually do me good." Bilbo tried a small smile.

The waiter nodded. "You know best, sir. Coming up in a tick." He disappeared back inside.

"Could you please show some manners?" Bilbo whispered, almost in a begging tone.

"Why?" his pocket answered petulantly. "They can't see me anyway when I'm stuck down here."

"No, so they think_ I_ make those noises," Bilbo said, exasperated. "I'd like to maintain _some_ dignity..."

"Well, if you let me sit on the table, they'll know it's me. And you can keep your precious dignity."

"Are you sure? Aren't you afraid of them?" Bilbo asked.

"What are they going to do? Scoff at me?"

"Well... Yes. They probably will," Bilbo said.

"I can handle that." Smaug clambered out of Bilbo's pocket and onto the table, shaking his wings to get them back in shape.

Bilbo smiled at him. "More comfortable for me, too, I must say."

"Oh!" Some clattering sounded behind Bilbo, and then a crash. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Baggins," the waiter's voice sounded, as he picked up the shattered glass. "I was all startled by your... your... that..." He stood up and cleared his throat.

Bilbo turned and raised his eyebrows at him. "His name is Smaug. Sorry to give you a fright, but I assure you that he's completely harmless." He quickly glanced at Smaug. "Well, as long as he isn't harmed."

"Of course. I'll get you another beer," the waiter said a little nervously.

"And a rabbit," Smaug called after him. "They do serve rabbits here, don't they?" he asked, looking up at Bilbo.

Bilbo sighed. "I suppose... But I can't promise you'll like the way they're served."

"I'm used to hobbit cooking," Smaug said, licking his snout.

"Yes, but _you_'re used to _excellent_ hobbit cooking," Bilbo winked.

"So you think you're better than they are here?" Smaug teased. "Then why are you not running an inn?"

"There's a big difference between cooking for one or two and cooking for large groups," Bilbo said wisely. "Besides, I'd have to work far too hard once they discover how good my grandmother's lamb stew recipe is."

"Can't be harder than cooking for a dragon," Smaug boasted.

"Yes, but then I suppose you don't want me to get distracted when I'm supposed to prepare your meals," Bilbo said.

The waiter returned with his beer, then hurried back inside.

"Where's my rabbit?" Smaug roared after him. Then he chuckled and glanced at Bilbo. "You're just too lazy," he said.

Bilbo gave him a stern look, but then laughed. "Yes. That I am. Give them the time to cook your rabbit, though. The poor boy isn't used to having a Great Calamity as his guest."

Smaug snorted a puff of smoke in the direction the waiter had disappeared, then settled down to wait, his tail twitching impatiently. "I should have had mouse," he muttered. "Mouse cooks a lot faster..."

Bilbo shook his head. "They don't serve mouse here. I told you, we hobbits don't eat them. And I'd have thought you had had enough mice in the past few days."

"But they're taking so long," Smaug complained. "How hard can it be? A good blast or two..." He frowned and then sighed. "Oh... Right... Hobbits..."

"You could always have offered to do it yourself," Bilbo said. "Ah, but there it is."

The waiter put the rabbit dish, with a lot of tasty looking vegetables, down on the table. "Here you go, Mr Dragon..."

Smaug gave him a rather toothy smile. "Thanks," he said and attacked the dish, growling blissfully.

"It means he's happy," Bilbo said quickly, seeing the waiter's alarmed expression.

...

Before Bilbo had even emptied his half-pint, Smaug had devoured everything edible from the plate. Then he had simply rolled over onto his back, sighing happily, and started a belching concert.

"Smaug, can you please stop that?" Bilbo asked, shifting a little nervously on his chair. The square was filling rapidly, so there were more and more hobbits around who actually knew him and had perhaps still thought him somewhat respectable before now.

"Can't," Smaugh moaned. "So full..."

Bilbo sighed. "I'm not planning to stay here all day until you've finished digesting, you know. Maybe I should just let you rest here for an hour or so."

After some very undignified wriggling, Smaug managed to sit up and stared accusingly at Bilbo. "You wouldn't leave me," he said. "You wouldn't dare."

"No, I'd carry you, but not when everyone can hear me approaching thanks to giant dragon belches," Bilbo said, crossing his arms.

Smaug giggled. "Just be happy they're coming out that end," he said and let out a mighty burp.

"Smaug!" Bilbo said indignantly. "Don't you dare. You're going back into my pocket, you hear me?"

"Can't I ride on your shoulder?" he asked. "It's so cramped in there?"

"Only if you aren't making any rude noises," Bilbo said.

Smaug pouted a little. "I'll try," he said. "But if I hold it in for too long, I'll get a belly ache."

"You can try to get them out discreetly," Bilbo said, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted was a hurting dragon. One time when Smaug had been ill, he had been howling and crying all through the night, convinced that he was dying. Bilbo hadn't got a wink of sleep and his ears had been hurting from all the noise.

"I'll try," the dragon promised, clambering up Bilbo's arm with nothing like his usual grace.

Bilbo chuckled and got up. By now, a mass of hobbits had gathered between the stalls. He admired some fine sets of knives and made a mental note to return later to one of the sweets sellers. Then someone called his name.

"Ah, Mr Worrywort!" he greeted when he turned and saw the familiar big nose.

"Come check out my tubers! I've got me own stall!"

Bilbo chuckled at seeing the pride in the man's face and went closer. "Very impressive indeed."

Smaug had curled up on Bilbo's shoulder and was breathing rather heavily while his tiny body worked to digest not one but two very large meals. He did manage to lift his head a bit to glance at the hobbit.

Mr Worrywort did not even seem to notice him. He started telling a long story to Bilbo, about how he had worked to get his vegetables as giant as they were, and if Mr Baggins wouldn't agree he could easily win a prize if he entered one of the contests, just like he did last year with his pumpkins.

Smaug soon got bored and began looking around at the other hobbits at the fair. He noticed a group of children watching him and blew a couple of smoke rings, making them giggle. One of them even applauded.

Bilbo turned around to see what was happening, distracted from the conversation. He smiled as he understood what Smaug was doing. "Maybe you can go play with them," he suggested.

Smaug flapped his wings once, then settled down again. "Not yet," he whispered. "I don't think I can fly right now." He looked straight at the children and belched a tiny flame.

"What was that?" Mr Worrywort frowned, only now directing his gaze to Bilbo's shoulder.  
"Don't worry. It's just Smaug," Bilbo smiled.

"Right..." Worrywort's eyes shifted nervously between Bilbo and his beloved tubers. "Well, it was nice talking to you."

Bilbo took the hint, nodded at him and moved on.

Smaug turned to look back at Worrywort and flicked his tongue playfully at him. Then he giggled and nuzzled Bilbo's neck.

Bilbo smiled and folded his arm back to pet him. "What do you want to do now?"

Suddenly Smaug hissed and tensed, digging his claws into Bilbo's shoulder.

"Ouch!" Bilbo cried out. "What is wrong with you?"

"Mean hobbit," Smaug muttered, trembling slightly. "Don't let him see me..." Quickly he scurried down Bilbo's vest and disappeared into his pocket.

Bilbo looked around and indeed, Merimas was standing two stalls away from him. Fastening his step, he did his best to get past him as soon as he could without stepping on anyone's toes.

Just when Bilbo was closest to him, Merimas turned. "Oh, hello, neighbour," he said with a not very convincing smile.

"Merimas," Bilbo said curtly, putting a hand over the shivering bulge in his pocket.

"So you've actually left that flying menace on its own? Aren't you afraid it will have burned down your hole by the time you return?" Merimas asked, glancing in the general direction of Bag End as if expecting to see a pillar of smoke rising.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows. "No, I'm not. Excuse me, please. I was on my way to... see someone."

Merimas grinned unpleasantly, nodded once and turned his back to Bilbo whose pocket was trembling.

"Calm down," Bilbo said softly, stroking the scales in his pocket.

Suddenly Smaug squealed and began struggling, scrabbling at the fabric to get out.

Merimas glanced over his shoulder, frowning at the sound.

"Smaug... He's looking..." Bilbo said between his teeth, trying to soothe him by petting him some more.

Smaug hissed and sank his teeth into Bilbo's finger. Just for a second. Then he let go with a mortified yelp.

"Ouch!" Bilbo said, retracting his hand quickly. "What are you _doing_?" He studied his finger, which wasn't bleeding, but still stung.

"Sorry," Smaug muttered. "I... I just don't like him. And... small places..."

"It's okay." Bilbo fastened his pace and once he was around the corner, where Merimas couldn't see them, he took Smaug from his pocket and gave him a hug. "There, all better."

Smaug was looking rather small and sheepish. "I wasn't scared..." he muttered. "Your pocket is just too small for someone like me..."

"I didn't say you were, did I?" Bilbo smiled. "I won't put you back in there. In fact, you went yourself."

Smaug managed an almost convincing glare. "Can we go home?" he asked, his wings fluttering nervously.

Bilbo hesitated. "I've told you, I really like the fair. There'll be dancing and singing soon, and delicious food... But if you really want, I could bring you home."

Smaug's ears and tail drooped slightly. "No," he said, looking towards Bag End. "I can just fly home. No reason for you to miss any of the fun."

Bilbo bit his lip. He knew he was being manipulated, again, but apparently it was working. "I really don't mind bringing you. Or you can stay. I'm sure we can avoid our neighbour."

Smaug cocked his head and studied Bilbo for a long moment. Then he sighed. "No, it's fine, really," he said. "Go have fun."

And with that he took off and zoomed away over the nearest hill.

...

For a while, Bilbo felt bad about sending Smaug away, but eventually he decided to make it up later with a batch of biscuits, and the many things around him distracted him from his worries. Before he knew it, the sun was setting and he had had tea, dinner and supper, and now he sat off to the side with a good beer, watching the younger hobbits dance. More and more others were being dragged along to join in, and to his surprise a young, blond woman approached him.

"Hello, Prisca," he greeted when he recognised her.

"Good evening, Mr Baggins," Prisca smiled. "Don't you think you've been sitting here for long enough?" She reached out her hand.

Bilbo chuckled and raised his half-pint. "I'm fine here, thanks. I usually don't dance."

"Usually..." Her eyes twinkled. "But a decent hobbit like you can't deny a lady a dance, can he?"

Before Bilbo could protest, she had given his hand a sharp tug and he couldn't do much more than follow her to keep his balance, beer forgotten behind him.

Following Prisca's firm lead, dancing actually wasn't too bad. And Bilbo's mood lifted even further when he looked to the side of the square, where a group of four hobbits in their tweens was sitting in a circle. Every now and then they burst out in loud laughter, and it wasn't hard to spot the source of their amusement, as the flames with which their pipes were lit showed gleaming red scales and sharp teeth. Apparently Smaug hadn't left or had already returned, and he was having a good time after all. Pleased, Bilbo took Prisca's hand and twirled her around.

Smaug was indeed having the time of his life. Flitting about, diving at the pipes that seemed to need lighting unusually often, and toasting apples, sausages and other treats the three young men and the rosy cheeked girl had managed to hoard during the day. Two of the lads also let him sip their beers occasionally and he was feeling braver and larger by the minute.  
He had just treated them to his best roar when an outraged shriek startled him so badly that he burped an unintended flame, accidentally setting the young girl's hat on fire. Not much... Just a bit of smouldering, but the woman who had cried out apparently saw it as further offence, as she charged towards them.

"Get away from her, you beast!" she cried, brandishing her umbrella like a sword.

"Aunt Linda!" Bilbo cried, running towards them, leaving Prisca between the other dancing hobbits. "Don't hurt him!"

Aunt Linda spun around, glaring at him. "Bilbo Baggins," she snapped. "If you cannot control that abomination, someone will have to do it for you. It nearly killed my poor niece!"

While she was looking away, Smaug tried to make his escape, but flew straight into the chest of someone rushing to see what was happening. And that someone just happened to be Merimas Noakes, who cried out and batted his hands in panic. He struck Smaug's left wing and the tiny beast spiralled to the ground, howling.

"Smaug!" Bilbo gasped and pushed Merimas out of the way to reach the dragon. "Smaug, are you alright?" His hands hovered over him, but his wing seemed to lie in a funny angle and he didn't want to hurt him.

"Poor beast," the young girl's voice said behind him, but Bilbo hardly even heard her.

Smaug tried to raise his head, but moving made his wing hurt and he yelped. "I... I'm fine..." he cried. "I just want to go home... Please..."

Merimas stared down at the dragon and walked slowly backwards, disappearing into the gathering crowd.

"Of course. I'll bring you home," Bilbo said, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he very, very carefully lifted Smaug off the ground.

Smaug whimpered and buried his head in Bilbo's palm. "It hurts..." he whined. "I think he killed me..."

"You'll be fine," Bilbo said softly. "I promise."

Almost reverently, the other hobbits, including even Aunt Linda, made way for him, quietly looking on.

"He'll be fine," Bilbo repeated to them, and it was almost a relief when he moved on further, where the music and noise had never stopped and where no one paid him much mind.

...

Smaug was relatively quiet on the way home, but as soon as Bilbo put him down on the bed, he started whining and moaning. Only when Bilbo tried to feel if the wing was broken, it turned into hissing, but it seemed to be nothing more than a sprain. The moment Bilbo left the bedroom for a final cup of tea before bed, the whining turned louder than ever. In the end, Bilbo had to abandon his tea and lay down with Smaug, petting him gently, until the sounds were reduced to small sobs, and then the dragon was asleep.

…

Smaug drew in another deep breath, waited a moment and then blew it at Bilbo's face, enjoying the way it made his hair flutter. He had been woken up by the birds in the garden before the sun had risen above the hill. At first he had wanted to go play with them, but as he tried to stretch he was painfully reminded that he would not be flying for a while. So he had tried going back to sleep. After a few minutes this got boring and he had come up with this novel way of entertaining himself. So far he had managed to make the hobbit's hair move to the left, the right, part down the middle and straight up. Now he was trying to blow it flat enough to cover not only the forehead but the eyes too.

The first Bilbo noticed that morning was that he had forgotten to brush his teeth, which was an extremely bad idea after all the food and beer. Then he noticed a warm breeze on his forehead, which made him wonder if the window was open, but then it would have to be a very warm morning for this time of year. He opened his eyes, but had to blink fast as the stream of air had just made his hair fly into them.

"Whuh?" he mumbled, scrunching up his nose.

"Don't move," Smaug urged. "I want to see how far down it'll reach..."

Bilbo groaned. "What will reach?" he asked, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

"No..." Smaug whined. "I think I could have gotten it to the tip of your nose. Just one more good blow."

"Are you experimenting on my hair?" Bilbo frowned.

Smaug paused. "Uhm... yes... Problem?" he asked, frowning a little.

"I guess not, as long as you don't put anything on fire... Although I doubt it can be very interesting to you," Bilbo shrugged.

Smaug sighed. "Well, there's not really anything else I can do, is there? I can't hunt mice or chase birds. I can't even go look for treasure."

Bilbo sympathetically patted his neck with his fingertips. "Well, go on then. I'll try not to move." He closed his eyes.

Smaug blew once more, then huffed. "You're right... It's not much fun..." He was silent for a moment before letting out a mighty sigh. "I'm bored..."

Bilbo sat up and stretched. "Well, let's go find something to do then. Making a good breakfast, for a start."

Smaug's tail twitched a little. "With bacon?" he asked. "And sausages?"

"And eggs and beans," Bilbo nodded.

Smaug chuckled. "I better stay off the beans. Remember last time?"

Bilbo snorted. "Right, no beans for you."

Smaug nodded. "Carry me?" he asked, trying to sit up.

Bilbo got out of bed and then pressed Smaug to his chest, hugging him all the way to the kitchen, but of course careful to avoid his wounded wing.

Smaug smiled up at him. "It's not so bad being hurt when someone is taking care of you," he said.

Bilbo smiled back.

...

"White wizard to ranger 5," Smaug ordered. "And more biscuits... Please..." He grinned up at Bilbo from his soft pillow on the table.

Bilbo chuckled and moved Smaug's chess piece, then offered him a biscuit. "I'm not sure you'll still get any if you beat me, you know," he said with a wink. He had just decided what move he would make next on the board, when a knock sounded.

"Who's that?" Bilbo wondered out loud. "I'd have thought everyone's still asleep after last night..."

Smaug whimpered, and hid his head under his good wing. "It's the evil hobbit," he cried. "I can smell him. Don't let him hurt me..."

Bilbo frowned. "How dare he show himself here?" He got up and roughly opened the door.

Merimas almost jumped in surprise. "Oh... Uhm..." He cleared his throat. "Good morning, neighbour," he said gruffly. "I was wondering... Could I perhaps borrow some... salt...?"

Bilbo raised his eyebrows. "No. And that shouldn't surprise you."

Merimas looked down and shuffled his feet a little. "Oh. Right..." he muttered. "How is the little... creature?"

"He's fine, no thanks to you," Bilbo said, crossing his arms.

Merimas sighed. "I didn't mean to strike him," he said. "He startled me. It was a reflex..." He tried to look past Bilbo. "Is he in there?" he asked.

Bilbo nodded. "I think an apology would be in order."

Merimas hesitated, then nodded. "If you don't think I'll scare the little fella. I understand if he's a bit... wary of me..."

Bilbo gave him a suspicious look, then said: "Give me a moment. I'll warn him that you're here."

He closed the door and returned to the dragon. "Smaug?"

Smaug was trembling as he looked out from under his wing. "Is he here to get me?" he asked. "You won't let him, will you?"

"Of course not." Bilbo stroked his back. "He's here to apologise. Shall I let him in? He won't touch you. I'll make sure of that."

Smaug considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I... I don't want to see him," he muttered. "I don't like him..." He trembled. "Can't he just say it to you?"

Bilbo smiled. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry. Just wait here for a minute."

He returned to the door and opened it. "I think you'd better return later," he told Merimas. "He's still a bit shaken, you see."

"Right... Of course..." Merimas ran his hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. "I... Could you... give him this...?" He held out a small brown bag. "I was told he likes these... My wife made them..."

Bilbo hesitated, then accepted the bag and nodded. "Thank you. I hope that means you'll be a bit nicer to him from now on."

Merimas smiled a little. "Just tell him to stay away from my roses," he said, nodded once and then turned and left.

Bilbo closed the door and gave a small nod at the bag in his hand before going further inside.  
"He brought biscuits," he announced to Smaug.

Smaug frowned. "Are they poisonous?" he asked.

"Well, let's hope not," Bilbo said, putting them down on the table, next to the chess board. "I doubt Merimas knows much about poisons."

Smaug huffed. "He doesn't like me," he said. "He'd not give them to me if they were good."

"I think he really regretted what he had done," Bilbo said, sitting down and opening the bag. "And they sure look good."

Smaug stretched his neck a little in the direction of the bag and sniffed. "How do they taste?" he asked.

Bilbo took one, took a bite and started chewing. "Quite good. Mrs Noakes always was a good cook."

Smaug cocked his head. "Well... don't eat them all. Give me some," he demanded. "They're mine."

Bilbo snorted. "You were just waiting for me to keel over, weren't you?" He put a biscuit down in front of Smaug and finished his own.

"Or spit it out," Smaug said, grinning, before attacking his biscuit eagerly, yet mindful of his wing.

Bilbo shook his head. "Shall we return to our game?"


	9. Rest

"So then the giant spider actually let out a squeak and turned away... Smaug, sit still." Bilbo winced as the dragon stretched his paw past his wing to scratch himself.

A moment later, Smaug let out a piteous howl as he bumped his bruised wing. "I'm dying..." he cried. "I'm dying..." He rolled over onto his good side, whimpering.

Bilbo sighed and put a hand on Smaug's side. "Again..."

"You startled me!" Smaug howled, writhing in agony. "It's your fault..."

Bilbo raised his eyebrows. "I was warning you. If you don't want me to bind your wing, you'll have to pay attention to how you move."

Smaug pouted. "You can't bind my wing. It would look ridiculous. The mice would never let me forget it."

"Do you really care what the _mice_ think?" Bilbo asked incredulously.

"No..." Smaug muttered. "But I don't like it when they laugh at me. It makes me feel... small..."

"They could think it's a hero's wound," Bilbo said.

"They're mice. They don't think," Smaug huffed.

"Then what is there to worry about?" Bilbo smiled. "You're still a dragon. I don't think sparing yourself some pain will make you any less majestic."

"I'm fine," Smaug muttered. "Just don't startle me."

Bilbo sighed. "You know it's going to happen again."

"Of course it won't," Smaug said, curling up carefully. "Just don't shout at me. What did the spider do?"

"It ran, but then suddenly there were others." Bilbo paused for a moment. "I've lost track of my story. Maybe we should keep the rest for another time."

Smaug sighed. "But... I'll get bored..."

"We can sit by the fire and play another game?" Bilbo suggested.

"Would I have to move?" Smaug asked, looking up at him.

"You can order me to move the pieces again," Bilbo smiled. "Though that offer stands only as long as you haven't healed. You don't need to get any lazier."

"But you'd have to get up to get the game... And to set it up... I don't want you to move either." Smaug yawned.

"Alright." Bilbo scratched him behind the ears. "Then why don't you tell me a story?"

Smaug purred and leaned a little into his touch. "Did I tell you about the time I caught a sheep?" he asked.

"Yes," Bilbo chuckled. "It was a very funny story. Poor lamb."

Smaug frowned up at him for a moment. "Funny?" he asked.

"Yeah. I imagine it got a bit of a fright seeing first a squirrel rush past at top speed and then having a dragon bump into it," Bilbo said, thinking back with a small giggle.

Smaug huffed. "I did not 'bump' into it... I charged it... Chased it away."

"That's not really what 'catching' means, is it?" Bilbo asked, amused.

"Oh, so now we're going to argue semantics?" Smaug sneered. "Why don't you tell a story then?"

"I'm sorry. You can tell me another one?"

"No... You'll just make fun of me. Of my size."

"You forget I'm a hobbit," Bilbo said. "Next to an impressive creature like you I need to say stuff like that now and then, or I'll start feeling insignificant."

Smaug cocked his head and studied him, then decided to believe him. "That's okay," he said. "Some people need to make me smaller to feel bigger. Others make me bigger to make themselves feel better." He nodded, looking very wise.

Bilbo smiled. "I guess that makes sense. So do I get a story?"

There was a long pause, then: "I suppose I should tell you how I ended up inside the mountain..."

Bilbo shifted in his chair, making himself even more comfortable. He had hoped for this particular story for a long time, but Smaug had always avoided it.

"I'm all ears," he told the dragon.

Smaug looked like he wanted to say something about what Bilbo was, but only smiled a little. Then his expression changed and his ears drooped as he muttered: "The boy... He wasn't the only human to see me. Not really..."

Bilbo petted his scales. "I did wonder how you could get away without anyone else seeing you flying."

"There was this one man. I... I think he had been drinking. He walked funny. He saw me and started screaming about a dragon, but everyone else was too busy with the fires. So he rushed to this... weapon... And..." Smaug, whimpering, hid his head under his good wing and trembled.

"Did he hurt you?" Bilbo asked, frowning and tensing a little.

"It was huge..." Smaug whispered. "Ten times my size or more. And it came at me so fast. It... It didn't actually hit me but it was so close. I was knocked back. Into a wall."

"Poor you," Bilbo said quietly. "How did you get away?"

"I'm not sure..." Smaug admitted. "I mean... I must have flown, but I was so confused. I don't really remember much until I was sitting high up on the mountain. There was this kind of shelf of rock... Hidden away. I thought I'd be safe there. That the only way to get there was by flying. So I fell asleep."

"I can imagine you were tired after all that," Bilbo nodded. "Do you know what happened to the man who attacked you?"

"No idea. He probably died in the fires." Smaug sighed. "Like the rest of them."

Bilbo sighed and hugged Smaug, carefully avoiding his wounded wing. Then he put him on his lap again. "What happened on the mountain?"

"I thought I... made a friend..." Smaug whispered.

Bilbo blinked. He had never heard about any other friends of Smaug's. But however curious he was, Smaug's distressed expression told him he'd better change the subject if he wanted a pleasant evening for both of them.

He stroked Smaug's head. "You do have a friend now. Are you sure you don't want to play?"

"Could we read a book?" Smaug asked. "You have some nice books. Great pictures."

"Of course," Bilbo nodded. "But I'll have to fetch one."

Smaug sighed. "Okay... But be careful."

Bilbo knew exactly which volume he needed to pick from his bookcase to cheer Smaug up. Once, when Smaug hadn't lived with him for long, he had started reading some thrilling tales of battle to the dragon. It had been like feeding him a sedative. Bilbo still wasn't sure if it had taken a whole minute for the beast to fall asleep. He had thought his friend had simply been tired. But when he had tried continuing the stories, they had had the same effect, until one day Smaug had been extremely energetic. For five minutes he had listened, getting more and more fidgety, until he finally cried out how unbelievably _boring_ he found those tales, and if Bilbo really didn't have anything _interesting_ on his shelves.

To tease him, Bilbo had chosen a catalogue of the Shire's flowers, written by Flora Toadfoot. Surprisingly, Smaug had never been more delighted. The encyclopaedia was indeed very beautifully and colourfully illustrated, but still, he hadn't quite expected the dragon to appreciate that. After all, those books were typically found in hobbits' libraries, and he couldn't imagine that races like men and dwarves would even look at them twice. And yet Smaug had been quiet all evening while Bilbo taught him about the plants and showed him their particular characteristics.

The volume he had taken now was a special edition, and Bilbo had left it for a special occasion. It described all the different butterflies anyone had ever spotted in the lands of Eriador, and it was incredibly valuable. He opened it on the table and put Smaug on his pillow next to it, so he could see everything.

Smaug's eyes all but rolled out of his little head as he just stared and stared at the page. Then he whispered in awe. "Do all these really exist? All of them?"

"All of them," Bilbo nodded, smiling fondly at the dragon's enthusiasm. He pointed at a picture of a yellow butterfly. "Remember this one? You were chasing one like that last week."

Smaug nodded eagerly. "Would have caught it too. If it hadn't been for that sparrow getting in the way."

Bilbo smiled. "Caught, or chased it away?"

Smaug did not dignify this with an answer as he reached out with his claw and carefully turned the page.

The book kept them occupied for the rest of the evening and then they decided to make it an early night. But not long after midnight, Bilbo was woken up by some high, wailing noises. When he opened his eyes, he saw Smaug clawing at the pillow, his eyes closed but a frown clear on his face. Hoping he would be able to save the pillowcase in the morning, Bilbo pulled Smaug a little closer, gently stroking him and wondering if it were the bad memories that had gotten to the dragon. He didn't wake up, but the whimpering stopped, and Bilbo still held him in his arms when he fell asleep again.

...

"Are you sure?" Smaug asked, glancing up at Bilbo. He had spread his wings, but hesitated before taking the leap that would, hopefully, get him flying again. His wing was completely healed and no longer hurt, even when he stretched it, but Smaug was still wary of using it.

Bilbo nodded. "I'm not saying you should plan a flight of five miles, but for a short distance I think you can use it again. Go on." He smiled.

Smaug's wings trembled. Then he folded them back in. "Maybe we should have tea first," he suggested.

"Go on now, don't be scared," Bilbo chuckled. "Just up to the tree and back."

Smaug glared up at the tree. "Why? What did you lose up there this time?"

"Nothing," Bilbo said mildly, "but don't you think it will be good to fly again?"

Smaug nodded. "I'm just not sure that I... that the wing is ready yet."

"Trust me," Bilbo smiled. "You can move it again without pain, right?"

He stretched his wings again and flapped them slowly. "Yes..." he said. "But flying is not just moving your wings, you know."

"Then how about trying it in here? Then I can catch you if you fall," Bilbo suggested.

Smaug considered for a moment. "Maybe later," he said. "I'm tired. I think I need a nap."

"Alright then," Bilbo said, reaching out his arm so Smaug could hop onto it. "I'll bring you to your lair."

"Thank you," Smaug said, crawling up to Bilbo's shoulder. "Could you bring along some biscuits?"

"Are you a sleep-eater?" Bilbo asked, amused.

"No... I would like to have a snack ready for when I wake up," Smaug said, nuzzling Bilbo's neck.

Bilbo chuckled and took some biscuits.

...

Not ten minutes after Bilbo had left Smaug in the bedroom, he was disturbed from his book by noises outside.

"Yes! Tremble before me, _Inachis io_. For I am the mighty Smaug... Woohooo!"

Chuckling, Bilbo stuck his head out the window. "Feeling better, then?" he called.

At first there was no answer, then Smaug swooped down, almost crashing into him. He zoomed around Bilbo's head a couple of times and then landed on his shoulder. "What's for dinner?" he asked happily.

* * *

_Note: We do realise that they would not use Latin names for animals in the Shire, but since most of you can't speak Elvish, we did you the courtesy of translating to a more common language ;) If you do know any Elvish names for butterflies (more specifically than "wilwarin"), please let us know and we'll put it in place._


	10. Bunny Biscuits

"Come on... It's not fair... You can tell me..."

Smaug hovered outside the small round window, but Bilbo's back was to him, and blocking what was on the table from sight. Smaug groaned and rose a bit, then turned away and sped in through the open bedroom window. He flittered down the corridor, but was stopped by the closed door to the kitchen. He budded his head against it a few times, but nothing happened.

"Bilbo..." he whined, landing on the floor. "Please... tell me what you're making. Come on... I want to know..." He began clawing at the wood, hoping that the hobbit would be more concerned with preserving the nice door than keeping his secret.

A loud sigh sounded from the other side of the door. "It's a surprise, Smaug. Just have patience for 15 minutes more."

"But that's an eternity..." Smaug complained as he began pacing in front of the door. "Besides, I'm a dragon... You shouldn't surprise me. It could be dangerous."

Bilbo chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it will be safe." He came out of the kitchen, but closed the door behind him before Smaug had a chance to fly in.

Smaug sat on the floor, glaring up at Bilbo, his tail swishing behind him. "You are cruel," he said. "You know I don't like secrets."

"14 minutes," Bilbo grinned. "I really hope you won't think this one too bad."

Smaug cocked his head. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Oooh, so you don't know what day it is?" Bilbo asked cheerfully.

"What day?" Smaug asked, jumping up on the table. "What do you mean? It's not your birthday... And I don't think it's mine either..."

Bilbo giggled. "You know my birthday better than your own? That's flattering, thank you. But you're right that that's not it."

"I don't know my birthday," Smaug said. "And you already had yours."

"Right," Bilbo said, only now fully realising that Smaug was probably too old to remember his birthday. "Well, on this day half a year ago... we came home."

Smaug's little jaw actually dropped for a second before he regained his composure. "It... It is? A whole half year?" He sat down with a thud. "And you remembered the date? Why?"

Bilbo smiled. "Because it's important. And nice to have something to celebrate. A whole six months that I didn't kick you out." He winked.

Smaug smiled and nodded. "A whole six months that I didn't kill you."

"Exactly. Congratulations!"

Smaug hesitated before asking: "Why did you do it? Why did you bring me home with you?"

"Because I felt responsible, at first," Bilbo said. "I had helped the dwarves, but that meant driving you out of your home. And you had nowhere to go. You were all alone. And you seemed nice... well, sort of... when we talked."

"I did?" Smaug studied Bilbo. "You seemed... interesting... It was nice to have someone to talk to. After so long."

"Even though I'm only a simple hobbit?" Bilbo smiled. "It got clear enough that we got along on the way home. So it was only logical that you came to live with me."

Smaug nodded. "I guess so. Though there were many times during the journey here when I wanted to leave. To go back to my mountain." He sighed and his ears drooped as he remembered the halls and treasure that he had once called his.

Bilbo picked him up and hugged him. "Do you still want to go home?"

Smaug snuggled close and shook his head. "It's no longer my home. It's full of... dwarves..." He shivered. "And... this is my home now. Right?"

"Exactly. That's why I need to take your surprise out of the oven now," Bilbo said, nuzzling the back of Smaug's head.

"Do you want me to help?" the dragon asked eagerly, immediately perking up.

"No, you just wait here until I call," Bilbo said, putting him back on the floor.

Smaug's tail twitched as he looked up at Bilbo. "You cannot mean that," he said. "Don't make me wait any longer." He did the eye-thing. "Please..."

"30 seconds," Bilbo laughed before disappearing into the kitchen again.

Smaug threw back his head and howled: "Bilbo!" Then he charged the closed door, bumping it hard with his head.

Bilbo swooped the tray of biscuits out of the oven, put down his gloves and then opened the door. On the other side, Smaug was sitting down, looking dazed and slightly cross-eyed.

"What did you do now, you silly beast?" Bilbo asked, shaking his head and picking him up again.

Smaug blinked a couple of times and shook his head. "Nothing... But I told you. Secrets aren't good for me."

"Well... It's not a secret any longer." He turned and showed Smaug the large tray of rabbit-shaped biscuits.

Smaug stared in awe. "How... How did you catch so many baby-bunnies?" he asked. "I didn't know you could hunt."

"I didn't hunt them," Bilbo laughed. "I made them!"

Smaug cocked his head, frowning. "You made bunny babies? How?"

"From dough," Bilbo said. "They're biscuits, of course!"

"Biscuits?" Smaug looked down at the tray. "Bunny biscuits?"

Bilbo nodded, grinning.

Smaug's tail twitched. "Why?" he inquired.

"Because you like biscuits... and rabbits..." Bilbo said hesitantly, hoping Smaug actually liked the idea.

"Do they taste like rabbit?" Smaug asked, sniffing the biscuits.

"I'm afraid they taste like biscuits," Bilbo said, bending his head a little at the lack of enthusiasm.

Smaug studied them for a bit longer. Then he looked up at Bilbo. "Will you throw some for me?"

"Of course. So... you like them?"

"They're funny," Smaug said. "Catching them will be a lot more interesting than the round ones." He did a small skip. "Outside... You can throw them much higher outside."

Bilbo chuckled and followed him out.

About an hour later, they were sitting in front of the fire. Smaug was lying on his back in Bilbo's lap, his stomach round and full of biscuits as he belched happily. "Bunny biscuits taste even better than real bunnies," he muttered. "And they're fun to chase."

Bilbo smiled. "Yeah, they weren't bad. So you're staying with me for another six months?"

Smaug looked up at him and wriggled his legs a little. "If you make more biscuits. And rub my belly. A lot."

Bilbo chuckled and moved his hand to Smaug's belly. "Oh, alright then. I think I can live with those harsh conditions."

Smaug stretched and purred happily. "Maybe next time we can make butterfly biscuits?" he suggested.

Bilbo nodded. "Good idea. I should have thought of that too for today."

"You can do it for our anniversary," Smaug said. "Some kind of hesperiidae."

"Sure," Bilbo said lazily.

"Can we make them blue?" Smaug asked. "Like the ones in the trees?"

"We could put some blueberry jam on them," Bilbo nodded.

"Could we put blueberry's in them?" Smaug suggested, licking his snout.

"Then perhaps we should make cakes," Bilbo said.

"Can they still be butterflies?" Smaug asked.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to take your butterflies from you," Bilbo smiled. "Shall I fetch the book?"

Smaug nodded eagerly.

When Bilbo returned, he immediately opened the book on the pages about the blue butterflies. "This seems a fitting chapter today, right?" he said.

"Wow..." Smaug pressed his nose to the page, to see the image better. "Those were the ones... In the trees. Right?"

"Yes," Bilbo said, pulling Smaug back a little so he wouldn't put the page on fire with his breath. "Your first butterflies."

"Well..." Smaug said. "I guess I must have seen them before, but never really noticed them."

"At least you do now," Bilbo smiled.

"Thanks to you," Smaug said. He closed his eyes and thought back. It had been so dark in those woods when they were travelling together. Not like his nice mountain with all the shiny gold and the little fires he could light. The darkness in the woods had been... heavy... Like it was crushing him. And Bilbo, who had been so terribly stern back then, had forbidden him to light any fires. He said it might draw spiders to them (as if Smaug would be afraid of a couple of spiders. He used to eat spiders for breakfast.) Or that the fire could spread. The elves would not be happy if Smaug burned down half of their land. So he had sat on the pommel of the saddle on Bilbo's pony and felt terribly small and sad and lonely.

The hobbit had tried talking to him, but Smaug had barely listened, lost in memories of his gold and the halls through which he could zoom for hours and hours without passing the same place twice. Finally, Bilbo had caught on. He had stopped the pony and moved Smaug to his shoulder, instructing him to hang on tight. And then, to Smaug's amazement, he had begun climbing up one of the giant trees. Smaug had tried to protest, saying that if Bilbo needed anything up there, Smaug could just fly up and get it. He wasn't trying to be helpful, but if the hobbit fell while Smaug was on his shoulder, the dragon wasn't entirely sure he would be able to get away before being crushed under the heavy body.

But Bilbo had forbidden him to fly. Smaug had hurt his wing during the battle and the elf who had tended to him had said he shouldn't fly before the next new moon. So he clung to Bilbo's shoulder, closing his eyes and hoping desperately that the hobbit wouldn't fall. He hadn't. Suddenly Smaug had felt something very unexpected. A breeze. And then sunlight on his eyelids. He had opened his eyes and found that they had emerged above the canopy of Mirkwood into the brilliant sunlight under a clear blue sky.

Bilbo had pointed to the east. "There, Smaug," he had said. "You can still see your mountain from here."

But Smaug had not even noticed. At first he thought it was raining jewels. But the shining blue things that filled the air were not falling. They were flittering about in the most astonishing fashion. He had looked closer and found that they were tiny dark creatures with delicate wings of the purest sapphire blue. And then one of them had landed on his nose. It wasn't afraid of him. It just sat there, batting its wings slowly.

"What is it?" Smaug had whispered in awe.

"It's a butterfly," Bilbo had said, chuckling. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," Smaug had answered. "Can I keep it? Bring it to my new lair?"

"No," Bilbo had said, still smiling. "Butterflies are wild creatures. Like you. They cannot be kept. But you can look at them any time you like. There are plenty in my garden. And not just blue ones. Butterflies come in all the colours of the rainbow."

He hadn't lied. There were myriads of butterflies in the Shire. And in more colours than Smaug could have ever imagined. But he still liked the blue ones the best.


	11. Blizzard

_Note: This chapter contains spoilers if you have only seen the films and did not read the book. But if that is the case, of course we strongly advise to read the book as soon as you have the time!_

* * *

"Horrible," Bilbo said, shaking his head. He and Smaug had found their usual place close to the fire, from where Bilbo could look out the window. A blizzard had been raging all day, and Bilbo was pretty sure he could not open the door even if he wanted to. Which he obviously didn't. No one in their right mind would even think of going out now.

"I hope everyone has enough provisions to last a few weeks," he continued mumbling, even though he didn't think the dragon on his lap was really listening. "It doesn't look like it's going to be better soon. What a terrible, terrible winter this year."

Smaug yawned and nodded. "Terrible," he muttered and then glanced over at the empty plate on the table. "Are we all out of biscuits?"

"No, I have some more, back in the pantry," Bilbo said. "If at some point I feel like getting up, I'll go get them."

Smaug sighed. "Lazy hobbit," he grumbled.

"It's just so nicely warm here," Bilbo said, snuggling further into his chair. "While outside..."

With a huff the dragon got to his feet and flapped his wings slowly a few times. "Fine," he said. "Just don't complain if I make a mess in the pantry. Opening those tins isn't easy when you've got claws."

Bilbo groaned. "Alright, alright, I'll come with you. Impatient monster." He got up and stretched, then shivered at the loss of his warm chair.

Smaug settled on Bilbo's shoulder, snuggling close and wrapping his tail around his neck.

"Don't strangle me," Bilbo warned, but he gratefully stroked his scarf's back as they walked to the pantry.

"Of course not," Smaug said. "I can't bake."

"And you'd miss me," Bilbo stated, before grabbing two tins. "There. Now there's no reason at all to get up again."

Smaug chuckled at this. "You really are a lazy hobbit," he said, studying the tins eagerly with his tongue flicking out for a moment.

Bilbo nodded and settled back in his soft chair before opening one of the tins and putting the other on the table.

Smaug all but crawled into the tin to get at the biscuits, snarling playfully as he crushed one between his jaws, crumbs flying everywhere.

Bilbo fondly shook his head and pushed Smaug a little aside so he could take a biscuit too.

Smaug had just caught another biscuit and was settling on Bilbo's lap when a loud knock at the door startled him, making him squeak, drop his biscuit and dig his claws into Bilbo's thigh.

"Ouch!" Bilbo called out, pulling Smaug off his leg, which made it hurt even more.

Smaug squealed and wriggled, then clambered up Bilbo's arm to hide in his hair, once again curling his tail around his neck. "Don't let them take me..." he whimpered.

Bilbo blinked, rubbing his leg. "Why would they... And who is actually mad enough to come out in this weather?" Only then he realised that he wasn't being very hospitable and that he'd better let them in soon, whoever they were, if he didn't want to have a snowman in front of his door. With a groan he got up and then rushed to open it, letting in the cold wind.

"Is he here?" Gandalf asked, pushing past Bilbo to get inside. He looked around frantically. "Is he safe?"

"What... what... what... Gandalf?" Bilbo stammered, turning around and automatically closing the door behind his back as he stood staring at the wizard who had come all the way through the blizzard.

Gandalf shook himself, turning from white to grey. "The dragon? Smaug? Is he still with you?" he asked urgently.

"Oh, of course, yes," Bilbo nodded, rushing over to take the cloak. "He's sitting by the fire. Or... he was." He looked over and frowned.

Smaug squirmed further into Bilbo's hair, trying to pull his tail out of view behind the hobbit's head.

But Gandalf's keen eyes spotted it as it slithered behind Bilbo's collar.

"Ah, there you are, Master Dragon," he said. "Do not worry. I have just come to talk. If you will be so kind as to answer a few questions for me."

Smaug whimpered into Bilbo's ear.

"Don't worry, Smaug," Bilbo said, trying to entangle the dragon from his hair. "Gandalf won't hurt you."

"He's a wizard," Smaug whispered. "Wizards are dangerous."

Gandalf smiled as he took off his hat and put his staff by the wall. "How about this, Master Dragon?" he said. "I'll go sit by the fire, and when you feel you can trust me, you can join me."

Bilbo finally managed to take Smaug from his head without pulling out all too many hairs and hugged him. "That sounds good, I think," he told Gandalf as Smaug didn't answer. "Do you want tea? Or something stronger? You must be cold. I'll get you something to eat too."

"Yes," Gandalf said. "To all of them. Thank you." He quickly made his way over to the fire and sat down with a sigh.

Smaug pressed himself against Bilbo. "I don't like him," he muttered.

"He's really quite nice when you get to know him," Bilbo said. "A bit eccentric, but you'd love his fireworks. He can make butterflies out of it." He put on the water and then moved to the pantry.

Smaug stayed put, glancing towards the figure by the fire every time Bilbo passed the door. "I can make fireworks too," he muttered. "Sort of."

Bilbo smiled as he gathered bread rolls, ham, butter and cakes. "It's probably important if he came all the way here through this weather. I think you should talk to him."

Smaug huffed. "I don't care. I don't like him." He studied the food Bilbo was getting ready. "Is all that for him?" he asked.

"Of course. Who knows how far he has travelled," Bilbo said. "Will you come back with me?"

Smaug jumped from his shoulder down to the table. "No. Just leave some food here for me."

"Alright," Bilbo said. "You're welcome to join us when you feel like it."

Smaug shrugged and then attacked the food.

Gandalf looked up at Bilbo as he entered and smiled. "That looks good," he said. "Sorry for barging in like that, but I really do need to talk to... your dragon... as soon as possible."

"He isn't really mine," Bilbo smiled, putting everything on the table before sitting down. "What's so urgent?"

"It can wait," Gandalf said, eagerly picking up a plate.

"Alright," Bilbo said, frowning a little. Not _that_ urgent, then. But at least that gave him an excuse to butter a piece of cake of his own.

...

Most of the food was gone when Gandalf chuckled. "Yes, Master Dragon," he said. "You may have the last biscuit." With a flick of his wrist he sent the treat flying and Smaug, who had been eyeing them from behind one of the legs on Bilbo's chair, took off and caught it deftly.

Gandalf did not even look at him but reached for the teapot and poured a fresh cup. "Come over here," he said. "It's much nicer by the fire than down on the floor."

Bilbo smiled and looked down at Smaug to give him a nod.

Smaug hovered for a moment, munching on his biscuit. Then he swooped down and landed on Bilbo's shoulder.

Gandalf smiled at him and then leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea.

Smaug watched him in silence for almost a whole minute, then snapped: "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Bilbo too was looking expectantly at the wizard, but Gandalf took his time, emptying his cup. Then, as he put it down, he looked over at the dragon.

"I need to know," he said, "what happened between you and Thrór. How you got inside the mountain."

Smaug tensed and then pressed himself against Bilbo's neck as if seeking comfort. Or protection. "Why?" he demanded, his voice barely more than a squeak. "That's none of your business."

Bilbo gently petted his scales. "I'm sure Gandalf has a good reason to ask a question as personal as that."

Smaug trembled slightly. Then he nuzzled Bilbo's hand for a moment before clambering down his waistcoat to settle in his lap. He looked up at Gandalf and took a deep breath. "He found me," he said. "When I was hiding on that shelf of rock. I was... hurt..."

"After... Dale?" Bilbo asked. "When the man had launched a weapon at you?"

Smaug nodded. "My wing was hurting really bad. And I was so tired. I did not hear him approach before he was suddenly right there. Leaning in over me and blocking out all the light. He startled me. I... I jumped up and almost fell over the side of the cliff."

"The king?" Gandalf asked softly.

"Yes. He... He picked me up and I thought he was going to kill me. Maybe throw me..." Smaug whimpered and turned his head to nuzzle Bilbo's hand.

"But he didn't," Bilbo said, scratching behind the dragon's ears to soothe him. "Smaug said the king was friendly to him."

"He took me in," Smaug said. "Fed me. Called me a 'little treasure'." He sighed and his ears drooped at the memory of his first friend.

Bilbo frowned.

"He gave me a lair of my own. In his chambers. A beautiful golden lair. So intricate and fine that I could just sit there, studying it for hours. But then... Something went wrong. I woke up after a nap and I was... trapped."

"Poor thing," Bilbo said. "Could you escape?"

Smaug shook his head. "It was as if a door had been closed. Locked. I could still look out but there were these... bars... where the opening used to be."

Gandalf frowned. "He caged you?" he asked. "Why?"

"I don't know..." Smaug whined. "He was my friend..."

Bilbo hugged the distressed dragon to his chest. "But you got out eventually. And the mountain became yours."

"I didn't want it," Smaug said. "What would I want a mountain for? All that space..." He shivered.

"He came back," Gandalf said. "He did not just leave you in that cage."

Smaug looked confused for a moment, then went on. "He wasn't gone long. But when he saw me fighting to get out it was like something changed in his eyes. He... He seemed scared. Called me a beast."

"Did he have something with him?" Gandalf asked.

"How did you know?" Smaug snapped, looking up at him. "Why are you asking me all this if you already know what happened?"

Bilbo gave Gandalf a questioning look, stroking Smaug's scales soothingly.

Smaug looked up at him, smiling gratefully. "It was a stone. A big, sparkling, beautiful one," he said, his eyes going hazy as he remembered it. "He was clutching it to his breast. And then..." He paused and sighed. "I'd been beating at the door of my lair, trying to get out. And suddenly it gave way and I fell out... Quite quickly... I flapped my wings so as not to fall and accidentally bumped into the king. I hit my head quite badly on that stone of his."

"And that's when things went really wrong, right?" Gandalf asked.

Bilbo patted Smaug's head, as if that would be any help after so much time.

"I know what Thrór _thinks _happened," Gandalf said. "Now I want to know what _really_ happened."

Smaug hesitated, then said: "He called me a thief. Said I'd only come to steal his real treasure. That I was a beast and a monster." Smaug looked up at Bilbo. "Then he ran," he whispered.

"Where did he go?" Bilbo asked, frowning.

"To his guards. Sounded the alarm. So... I figured I'd better hide. But I bumped into some other dwarves. And they began screaming and..."

"Panic," Gandalf said. "Thrór was yelling about a mighty dragon that had come to steal their treasures. And then the others began screaming. Soon everyone in the royal quarters was running around, terrified of the unseen menace. A woman decided to get her family out of there, so they fled and others followed. Soon it was a stampede and as they moved through the city, the panic spread. Then there was an accident. With one of the larger forges."

Smaug trembled. "So much fire..." he whispered. "So much screaming..."

Bilbo bit his lip. "All because one mad king had gone hysterical?" he asked quietly.

"Not just the king," Gandalf said. "The whole city had been on the brink of madness for some time when Smaug came. Their lives had become centred around their riches and they believed themselves to be the envy of all other creatures. So naturally they lived in constant fear of thieves. Invaders. When Dale burned down and there were rumours of a giant beast, the fear grew and Thrór's alarm was just the spark that lit the flame."

"But..." Bilbo said. "If I understand Smaug's story, there weren't even that many eye witnesses in Dale..."

"That's the thing about panic," Gandalf said. "People are not rational. They are so scared that their minds will provide images and memories to fit their fear. Some may have seen Smaug but remembered him bigger. Others heard the rumours and then thought they saw something. And many... far too many... would afterwards claim to have seen the dragon. To excuse their own actions, to get attention or simply to not stand out."

Bilbo nodded and kept petting Smaug, hoping to soothe him. "I see."

Smaug turned his head to look at the wizard. "Was it my fault?" he said. "All those people dying... running away?"

Gandalf shook his head. "No, Smaug. The only one at fault here is greed. Greed and mistrust. And that cursed stone."

"You asked me if Smaug was safe, when you came in," Bilbo said. "And you needed to hear this story so urgently. What is going on? What has changed since we left the dwarves?"

"There are those that still blame him," Gandalf said. "Both for what happened back then, and for the war that followed your discovery of him. There has been talk of revenge. Of lifting an imagined curse on the mountain."

Bilbo frowned. "Don't they see it's not Smaug's fault? If you tell them the true story, they must see their ancestors have actually been quite foolish."

"I will," Gandalf said. "And I will also tell them that there may indeed be a curse on that mountain. But it does not stem from any living creature, but from the stone. The one that now dwells in Thorin's grave."

Bilbo nodded. "So we're safe, right? They won't come all the way to the Shire to find him."

"Not if I can get to them first," Gandalf said. "But just to be safe, maybe you should take Smaug on a little trip. Visit the elves, perhaps?"

Bilbo nodded slowly. "Maybe that's best. Rivendell's nice enough to have a bit of a vacation there. Will you travel with us?"

"It is on my way," Gandalf said, nodding. "But we're not leaving until the snow is gone. Which should give us... a month, I would say. Would you mind sharing your home and food with me until then?"

Bilbo smiled. "Of course not!" Then he looked down at the dragon in his lap. "... right?"

Smaug gave Gandalf a sceptical look. But then he smiled. "Of course not," he echoed. "As long as he doesn't eat _all _the biscuits."


	12. Guest

"Watch out!" Bilbo yelped as Smaug zoomed towards the cupboard which held generations-old decorative plates.

The dragon only just avoided the wood, making a sharp turn after the butterfly-shaped speck of light he was chasing. His jaws clamped down on the light, which disappeared with a pleasant little pop. He hovered in the middle of the room, grinning and panting.

Gandalf laughed from his chair by the fire. "Have faith, Master Hobbit," he teased. "Smaug knows what he's doing." He conjured up another light and sent it fluttering around Bilbo's head a few times before it disappeared down the corridor towards the bedrooms.

Bilbo shook his head. "You shouldn't have shown him you can do this before you could go outside. There's so much that can go wrong if he gets too enthusiastic inside the hole."

"He won't," Gandalf said. "After all he's been chasing the real creatures most of the summer and never once bumped into a tree or wall. And he's promised not to flame, so there really is very little risk."

A faint pop sounded, followed by an eager whoop. A moment later, Smaug settled in Bilbo's hair. "I'm hungry," the dragon declared. "What's for dinner?"

Bilbo smiled. "What do you feel like eating?"

"A sheep," Smaug said. "Or stew. Either will do."

Gandalf laughed. "How about lamb stew?" he suggested.

Smaug did a happy skip and almost fell off.

Bilbo chuckled and gave Smaug a light poke so he'd find a somewhat more balanced position on his head. "Fine by me, but that means you'll have to wait a while longer."

"But I'm hungry now..." Smaug moaned.

"I'm sure our dear host can find something in his pantry to see you through," Gandalf said. "A couple of biscuits, perhaps?"

"Or a couple of slices of that nice dried ham," Bilbo nodded.

Gandalf caught the gleam in Smaug's eyes and shook his head. "Which we will not be throwing for you," he said. "That will be entirely too messy."

Smaug huffed and took off, fluttering towards the pantry. Gandalf got up with a soft groan and followed him.

...

"... and the goblins will never know who was their real guest that night," Gandalf said, his eyes twinkling.

Smaug laughed and bounced on Bilbo's laugh. "One more," he said. "Tell us another story."

Bilbo smiled. "Isn't it time for bed?"

"No," Smaug said, looking up at him, appalled. "It is time for another story."

Gandalf chuckled. "What kind of story would you like?" he asked.

Bilbo shook his head indulgently. These past few days really had turned out better than he had dared to hope. The fact that the wizard and the dragon had become good friends was yet another proof of how much Smaug had changed during his time with Bilbo. The shy beast he had brought from the mountain had not wanted anything to do with either of them. Now he was constantly demanding their attention. And they loved it. Bilbo was actually quite proud of the little dragon. He only hoped he wouldn't return to his old habits when they were with the elves, but first they would have to make a long trip, so now wasn't the time to worry about that.

"Tell him about the trolls," the hobbit suggested. "Or about the brown wizard."

"Ah, yes, Radagast," Gandalf said, leaning back and picking up his pipe. "He is a funny one. I remember one time we were travelling together down south..."

It sounded like Smaug would like the other wizard even better with all his knowledge of butterflies and flowers, and the story also made Bilbo regret he hadn't had the chance to actually talk to Radagast. But soon the dragon's eyelids were drooping and before Gandalf had explained how their adventure in the south had ended, Smaug was snoring on Bilbo's lap, his belly still round with the stew.

Gandalf glanced at Smaug and chuckled again. "I guess it _was_ time for bed," he said.

"Yes, I know his habits rather well by now," Bilbo smiled. "But I think he'll be sleeping fast enough to move him to bed."

"Give him some time," Gandalf said. "If you don't mind keeping me company, that is."

"Of course I don't mind," Bilbo said. "We may just have to speak up, though, to hear ourselves over his snoring."

They made some more detailed plans for their journey to Rivendell and Gandalf made them both a last cup of tea, since Bilbo couldn't move with a sleeping Smaug. Then they said goodnight, and the dragon didn't even open an eye when he was laid down on the pillow.

...

"No," Smaug said, digging his claws into the carpet. "I never go out in that stuff. Do you have any idea how cold it is?"

"But that's the point," Bilbo said, amused. "And you can wear the hat I knitted for you."

"Under no circumstances," Smaug said, glaring at the offered garment. Instead he clambered up Bilbo to hide under his scarf. "Fine," he muttered. "We can go out, but if I freeze to death I'm blaming you."

Bilbo chuckled. "Smaug, you're a fire drake from the North. I seriously doubt you'll die from this. And if you do, you do indeed have the right to blame me and curse my kin."

Smaug made a very rude noise and his tongue flickered out from under Bilbo's scarf.

Bilbo chuckled and winked at Gandalf, who was already standing outside.

Gandalf smiled at him and bent down to pick up some snow, carefully shaping it into a perfect sphere.

Bilbo grinned. "Sure you don't want to try out the snow, Smaug?" he asked as they finally walked out.

"What's there to try?" the dragon asked, shivering. "It's cold, wet and white."

Gandalf bounced the snowball lightly in his hand.

"Yes," Bilbo smiled, "but you don't know yet exactly _how_ cold and wet. And I think you'll find out very soon."

Smaug poked his head out from under the scarf to send Bilbo a puzzled glare. Gandalf timed it perfectly and the snowball hit the small dragon, covering both him and Bilbo's chest in fine powdered snow.

Bilbo laughed. "Told you!"

Smaug spluttered and coughed, rubbing his head frantically against Bilbo's scarf, trying to clear his eyes and nose. "Assassins!" he squealed. "You're trying to kill me!"

Gandalf laughed and bent down to gather more snow.

"Shall I avenge you?" Bilbo grinned, crouching to make his own snowball.

"Slay him," Smaug growled, clutching Bilbo's scarf for balance and glaring at Gandalf.

"I will, Master Dragon," Bilbo said with a nod, before aiming and launching the ball so fast that it knocked the one Gandalf was holding out of his hand. Then he quickly picked up more snow and shot the wizard's hat off.

"Now wait a minute," Gandalf said, straightening up and putting his hat back on his head. "I do believe you are fighting two against one."

"Smaug's not really fighting... yet," Bilbo said innocently, gathering yet more snow.

But even while he was speaking, Smaug was sneaking out from under his scarf, testing the snow with his claws. "If you can get him under a tree," he whispered, "I can make him very, very wet."

Bilbo hesitated for a moment. He wouldn't want the wizard to catch a cold. But then again, he was a wizard, so he might well be immune to common things like that. And if it was too bad, they'd have him back by the fire in no time.

"Alright," he nodded at Smaug, before turning back towards Gandalf, just in time to dodge another snowball.

"Hey, that's stabbing me in the back!" Bilbo complained.

While Gandalf was laughing, Smaug fluttered away from Bilbo and, darting behind the trees, managed to get behind the wizard. His small chest began smouldering as he prepared to melt the snow on the branches above and slightly behind where the wizard was standing. He held the fire in, waiting for just the right moment.

Bilbo started throwing one ball after the other, driving Gandalf towards the tree.

Gandalf tried to fight back, stumbling in the snow as his cloak got caught on some branches. He had just bent down to pick up a very large handful of snow when the dragon struck. There was a whoosh of flame, a hiss of steam and then a cascade of icy water hit the wizard, washing his pointy hat off his head and completely drenching his clothes.

Bilbo couldn't help bursting out in laughter. "Oh dear... Are you alright, Gandalf?" he said, walking closer to the wizard while he was still giggling at the sight of him.

Gandalf wiped the water from his eyes and was about to answer when there was a second whoosh and a smaller downpour of water. Then Smaug dove out of the tree, circled the man's head twice and fluttered over to land on Bilbo's shoulder.

"You were right," the dragon chirped. "Snow is fun."

Bilbo nodded. "Let's give poor Gandalf a break though. We could make a snowman."

Smaug grinned and settled on Bilbo's shoulder. "How do you make a snowman? Magic?"

Gandalf harrumphed as he wringed his hat and then placed it back on his soggy hair. "No, Master Water-Dragon. It is a man built from snow. And it will be without my help. I believe it would be wisest for me to go inside and get dry and warm by the fire." A powerful sneeze made him jerk his head so forcefully that the hat flew off again.

Bilbo quickly picked it up for him and handed it over to him. "You're probably right," he said, looking a little worried. "Do you need me to come and make you a cup of tea?"

"No," Gandalf said, waving dismissively at him as he turned towards the house. "You two have done plenty I think."

Bilbo felt a little sheepish. "Sorry..." he mumbled. He looked down at Smaug. "Do you think we went too far?"

"No," Smaug said haughtily. "He started it. That bit of water was no larger for him than his snow missile was for me."

"Right. So... Time to make a snow dragon?" Bilbo suggested.

"Or a snow hobbit," Smaug cried as he launched upwards, through the branches right above Bilbo, dislodging all the fresh, loose snow that had fallen the previous night.

"Aaaah!" Bilbo shrieked.

...

"Would've made such a magnificent snow sculpture if he hadn't ruined it. I already had plans for how to make the wings, but no. Had to go shake the snow off that tree," Bilbo grumbled, staring into the fire and pulling his blanket a little closer around himself.

"Menace..." Gandalf grumbled, pulling his own blanket closer around him.

Smaug swooped in from the kitchen and landed on Bilbo's knee. "Aren't we making biscuits?" he inquired. "You said we could make biscuits today."

"Too cold," Bilbo sulked. "We need to dry by the fire first. And I'm not sure I feel like making anything afterwards."

Smaug frowned and sat down. "But... biscuits...?" he said. "You promised..."

Bilbo let out a deep sigh. "We'll see."

"Go wreak havoc somewhere else," Gandalf muttered, pulling his blanket even tighter around his body.

Smaug's ears and tail drooped. "You are mad at me?" he inquired. "I thought playing in the snow was fun."

"It's supposed to be, yes," Bilbo grumbled.

"Then why are you angry?" Smaug asked. "You threw snow at me. I threw snow at you. I was just... better..."

Despite himself, Bilbo smiled a little. "You know how it is when you're so good that you make all the others feel rather incompetent."

"So you're saying that you're jealous?" Smaug asked, straightening up a little.

"Yes, Master Dragon," Gandalf said, his eyes regaining some of their usual twinkle. "We dearly wished that we were you right now. We'd be warm, dry and totally unable to make our own biscuits."

Bilbo chuckled. "Exactly. I suppose even magnificence has its disadvantages."

Smaug studied them both for a very long moment. Then he unfurled his wings. "You're mean," he said and took off, disappearing into the bedroom.

"He'll just be sulking on his lair," Bilbo told Gandalf. "I don't think he'll put anything on fire."

Gandalf nodded. "He won't. But I hope he will not be sulking for too long. Things could get boring around here without him flittering about."

"I think he'll get bored before we do," Bilbo said.

"And that's a good thing?" Gandalf asked. "Couldn't that become quite... troublesome?" He glanced around at Bilbo's fine home and raised a teasing eyebrow.

Bilbo shrugged. "He knows how far he can go before he has to go a week without biscuits."

Gandalf chuckled. "Oh, so that's how you have tamed the beast? Sugary treats?"

"I can't say I tamed him," Bilbo said, laughing at the idea.

"Domesticated him, then," Gandalf said, glancing toward the bedroom where faint noises indicated that Smaug was, once again, rearranging his hoard.

"I'd better go invite him to the kitchen and make biscuits," Bilbo sighed. "I suppose he domesticated me just as well."


	13. The Road Goes Ever On

"Can't you bring me something _useful_?" Bilbo sighed as Smaug came flying with yet another biscuit in his mouth. They were packing, and of course Bilbo had already taken care of the food. The very next thing he had packed were his handkerchiefs.

Unfortunately, the dragon was not much help when it came to packing for a long journey, yet he was very eager to try. So far he had brought Bilbo six biscuits and a ham.

"Biscuits are useful," Smaug said. "They are very handy in an emergency. _You_ are the one who is packing all those non-essentials." He gave the stack of neatly folded clothes waiting on the bed a scathing look. "Surely you don't need_ all_ that."

"Of course I do," Bilbo said indignantly. "The snow may be gone, but it's still cold. I don't have a fire burning inside my chest, remember? And once we've arrived, I really think I can do with a change of clothes."

Smaug huffed, stuck the biscuit into the pile and took off again.

A moment later Gandalf walked by the door. He stopped and studied the scene for a moment, then shook his head. "Surely you won't need _all_ that," he said. "We're going to Rivendell, not into the West."

Bilbo frowned. "But... I can't look scruffy before Lord Elrond, right? I mean, it's something else when we're just staying there for a moment, travelling someplace else. But now it's an actual holiday with the elves. I really need some decent clothes."

"And the elves are very hospitable," Gandalf said. "They will provide what is needed. Just bring what is necessary for the trip."

Smaug fluttered in again, struggling with a rather large loaf of bread. "Just in case..." he gasped. "If we run out of biscuits..." The loaf slipped from his claws and landed on top of the clothes with a soft 'thud' and a shower of crumbs.

Bilbo sighed and picked up the bread. "We're not going to starve," he told Smaug, before turning back to Gandalf. "I don't want to be any trouble to them. I can perhaps reduce the weight somewhat, but I _am_ taking my fine waistcoat and vest and there's nothing you can do about that."

...

The day went by in a rather hectic fashion. They had planned their departure for so long, but suddenly all kinds of things still had to happen. Packing, of course, but Bilbo also made a quick visit to Merimas and his wife, telling them he would be away for a while. They were rather critical about him leaving on a journey _again_, but agreed to keep an eye on his nice hole and make sure no one had sold it by the time he returned. Then Mrs Noakes gave Bilbo another bag of biscuits for the trip, which he didn't dare to refuse, but it took some repacking to fit them into their luggage.

Smaug made quite a fuss that evening, insisting they brought his lair. But in the morning he had suddenly disappeared. Gandalf and Bilbo lost quite some time looking for him, both in- and outdoors, until Bilbo noticed the sounds coming from a pantry that he had already locked up. He retrieved the key from the hook behind an old wardrobe and got the door open.

There, on one of the shelves, was Smaug, lying on his side, groaning, his stomach swollen and his tail twitching feebly. Gandalf was summoned and could quickly confirm that the little beast had simply stuffed himself beyond endurance.

"I... I didn't want it to spoil..." Smaug groaned as Bilbo carefully picked him up and put him in the small basket he would be travelling in, when he was not flying or riding on Bilbo's shoulder.

The dragon was asleep before they had reached the first bend in the road and farting loudly by the time they left Hobbiton.

Gandalf looked around and chuckled. "It sure is windy today, isn't it, Master Baggins? Especially around your pony, it seems."

Bilbo snorted. "Good thing the pony's a kind soul. Any other animal would have thrown us off because of the smell." He shivered, pulling his coat a little tighter. The wind was not only coming from the dragon, and it was quite chilly. "Should have brought those extra clothes," he muttered to himself.

Gandalf only smiled at this and got out his pipe, humming a travelling song.

...

The first three weeks of their journey passed rather uneventful. In Bree, Bilbo knew he had to pay special attention to enjoying sleep in a real bed, because after that it might well take until their arrival in Rivendell to see one.

Smaug behaved rather well. He kept promising that he would go out hunting for them when they travelled through the wilderness, but somehow they still ended up eating their provisions. They had brought enough, so they didn't worry about it too much.

Bilbo had intended to show Smaug the trolls, knowing how much he loved the story of those events, but on that day it was raining so hard that they decided against the short detour. Of course, Bilbo promised they would go see them on the way back, and the dragon only sulked a little.

...

"They're not natural..." Smaug stammered, his teeth chattering. He was hiding in Bilbo's hair, though moments ago he had been flying ahead, looking for new kinds of butterflies.

"Who are not natural?" Gandalf asked, sounding more intrigued than concerned.

"Bunnies... Bunnies aren't that big..." Smaug whispered and then tried to claw his way down into Bilbo's pocket.

Gandalf laughed and rose up in the saddle to call out. "Greetings, old friend. What brings you to these parts?"

"Oh?" A confused voice sounded, before the shrubbery shook and a sled, pulled by a group of impressive rabbits indeed, appeared. "Is that... Is that...?" the old man on the sled said, as it came to a halt. He stood up and walked closer, squinting intently at Bilbo's pocket. "I thought I saw..."

"They're monsters," Smaug squeaked, trembling.

"Not at all, Master Dragon," Gandalf said, laughing. "They're just Rhosgobel Rabbits."

"It's a _dragon_," Radagast said, sounding very surprised and delighted. "Hello, there."

Smaug whimpered, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Bilbo gently folded a hand around the dragon and scratched his scales. "Calm down. He's not going to eat you," he said soothingly.

Radagast only seemed to notice him now. "Oh. Master Hobbit. And Gandalf! Why are you laughing so hard? Good to see you both. And you brought a dragon! He's beautiful." The brown wizard nodded to himself, looking awed.

"The rabbits," Smaug whined. "Monster rabbits. Large as trees..."

Gandalf tried to compose himself and wiped a tear from his eye, though he was still shaking with silent laughter. "Good to see you too, dear friend," he said. "How are you faring?"

"Very well," Radagast answered with an odd look at Gandalf. "An actual dragon in these parts." He reached out his hand in front of Bilbo's chest.

"Erm," Bilbo said, looking down at the hand. "I don't think Smaug wants to move right now. The rabbits are still rather close, you see..."

"They're close?" Smaug squealed. "They'll eat me, they'll eat me!"

Gandalf gave up and roared with laughter.

Bilbo rolled his eyes and decided on another approach. "Good grief, Smaug. Do you really feel this is behaviour worthy of a dragon? One slap with your claws and those rabbits are gone."

He gave Radagast an apologetic look, but the wizard was only looking more intrigued.

"My rabbits won't harm you," he said finally. "They're very fast, but their teeth are not all that sharp. And they don't like the taste of dragon." He frowned for a moment at his own words. "Not that I think they tried."

"They mustn't," Smaug cried. "They mustn't try. Please tell them not to try. Dragon does not taste good. Not at all."

"They're only rabbits!" Bilbo said, exasperated. "I really don't know what's gotten into him," he told Radagast. "I'd always have thought bunnies this size would have been a dream to him."

"It's quite alright," Radagast mumbled. "If only he'd show himself properly!"

Smaug continued trembling as he muttered: "I had a dream. Giant rodents attacking me." He slowly poked his head out to look. "They had really sharp teeth..."

"Let me guess," Bilbo sighed. "You had eaten too many mice."

"Eaten mice?" Radagast frowned a little. Then he shrugged. "I'd really like to pet him, if that's alright with Mr Smaug."

Smaug glanced down at the rabbits. "They won't harm me?" he asked doubtfully.

"I think that's settled by now," Bilbo remarked.

Radagast nodded, giving Smaug a hopeful smile.

Smaug clambered out of the pocket and stretched his neck so that he could sniff Radagast's hand. Then, hesitantly, he crawled over and up the wizard's sleeve to get a better look at the man.

Radagast was staring at him with a dreamy smile. "Remarkable," he muttered. "Truly wonderful." And he hugged the dragon to his chest.

"Careful," Bilbo warned, wincing a little.

Smaug shifted to avoid some rather suspicious stains on the wizard's robe and then snuggled closer, purring happily.

Bilbo blinked. "Oh..." He hadn't expected Smaug to be comfortable hugging someone who wasn't him. After all he hadn't even landed on Gandalf in all the time he had been living with them.

Radagast was simply beaming, stroking the dragon's back.

Gandalf had dismounted and tied his horse to a tree. Now he walked over, beaming at the pair. "He's a friendly little beast," he said. "To those who know how to handle him."

"Of course he is," Radagast said, almost purring himself. "He's a fire drake from the North. I never believed those stories they were telling about him. But... What are you actually doing here?"

"We are taking Smaug here to meet the elves," Gandalf said. "He has been living in the Shire for a while, but it is time for him to see different places."

Radagast nodded. "I don't suppose he wants to travel with me for a while?"

Smaug looked up at him. "With you and the bunnies?" he asked.

Radagast nodded eagerly. "We're on our way... somewhere. For a thing. But it's probably not important. We can go wherever you want!"

"You are welcome to travel with us to Rivendell," Gandalf said. "If your rabbits do not mind the slow speed of our mounts."

Smaug beamed up at him. "Will you join us?" he asked. "I'm sure your rabbits aren't so bad once I get to know them. I mean... They haven't tried to eat me yet."

"Of course. I can join you for a while." Radagast smiled blissfully. "Maybe you want to ride one of the rabbits?" he suggested to Smaug.

Smaug eyed them doubtfully. "I'd rather ride with you," he said. "Maybe on your hat?"

"Of course." Radagast nodded eagerly.

Bilbo was still looking a little incredulous.

Smaug grinned and flew up to perch on the brown hat, flapping eagerly. "Let's go," he announced. "On to Rivendell..."

Bilbo was cold and uncomfortable. That was hardly something new - he had been every night since they had left Bree. In a way he had learned to get used to it during last year's adventure, and yet he didn't manage to fall asleep tonight.

Shivering, he turned over yet again, pulling his blanket higher up. Too forcefully, so his feet were exposed and he had to shift about to cover them again. Then he laid down his head and noticed a root was poking against his neck. He held back a groan. Everything was going wrong tonight. But according to the snoring volume, his companions didn't notice much of that. Even the rabbits made a strange whirring noise when they were asleep. Bilbo could easily discern it from Smaug's louder growls. The dragon was snuggled up in the middle of the bundle of rabbits. _He_ would surely be warm enough. Certainly after his energetic flying around, playing with the wizards before they went to sleep. They had all but forgotten Bilbo. They hadn't needed him to have fun. And that was fine, really. Or it would be, if only he had been at home, with a nice hot cup of tea, taking advantage of the moment to read a thrilling book without Smaug needing his attention.

But now it left him feeling very alone and cold to the bone. He let out a deep sigh and turned onto his other side, curling up in the hope to find enough warmth to drift off.

"It won't be long, old friend," Gandalf whispered, turning to glance over at him. "Soon we'll be with the elves and there'll be song and music, food and good company." He chuckled softly. "Lord Elrond may even lend you some of his books."

Startled, Bilbo looked up at Gandalf. "Sorry if I woke you," he said sheepishly.

"It's okay," Gandalf said, smiling. "We cannot have you fretting all on your own, can we?"

"I'm not... fretting..." Bilbo mumbled, shifting a little. "I'm just... being ridiculous."

"We often are," Gandalf said, his eyes sparkling. "Especially about the things we have come to take for granted. Those things that have become such a part of our life we cannot remember what it was like before."

Bilbo sighed. "Do you think it's safe to smoke? Or would it attract wild animals?"

"It is always safe to smoke," Gandalf said, sitting up. "Especially when you are travelling with wizards." He chuckled as he got out his pipe.

Bilbo smiled, sitting up and finding his own tobacco. It was good to have company during a sleepless night. He already felt a little warmer.

"Don't you ever get lonely, Gandalf? When you're on your long travels?" he asked, lighting his pipe.

"A wizard is never truly lonely," Gandalf said, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste of his pipe. "We always have the company of the world around us."

Bilbo raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that supposed to be true for everyone?"

Gandalf shrugged. "Supposed to," he said. "But not always so."

"Right." Bilbo frowned a little.

Behind them, some rustling sounded and then a loud yawn.

"Oh," Radagast whispered loudly. "Are we smoking? Can I join you?"

Gandalf chuckled and held out his tobacco pouch. "Of course, old friend," he said. "The more the merrier."

Radagast seemed happy enough to fill his pipe and sit down with them. After a few moments of quiet smoking, he looked at the sleeping animals.

"I've always wanted a chance to study a dragon's dream pattern," he sighed. "Most interesting."

"You know what Smaug is dreaming?" Bilbo asked, his eyes wide.

"Oh, not really _what_ he's dreaming. But how." Radagast smiled. "Right now he is very comfortable."

"Of course. In a bed of bunny fur," Bilbo said.

"No. He is unaware of that now. He is somewhere more familiar," Radagast said, closing his eyes for a moment. "His home."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow, watching his friend as he waited for him to continue.

"Do you mean his old lair?" Bilbo asked.

"No. His current home." Radagast nodded to himself. "We'd better not wake him. He'll get upset if he loses all that treasure."

Bilbo smiled a little. "Found my buttons then." He took another drag of his pipe.

They didn't talk much longer before Bilbo felt he could actually fall asleep soon. This time, he lay down closer to the rabbits and found a spot without any roots digging into his back. For a while, he kept listening to the wizards' voices, planning which road they would take, although Radagast was sounding less coherent the more he smoked. It seemed like he was talking about a blue box spinning through space while Bilbo was drifting off, but the hobbit couldn't be certain he hadn't dreamed that, and didn't remember in the morning.

...

"No, Smaug," Gandalf said. "The river will not 'eat' you. It's perfectly safe."

Smaug, once again perched on Radagast's hat, eyed the water doubtfully.

"I don't like it," he said. "It's magic. I can feel it. And it does not like me."

"We can go somewhere else if you like," Radagast said, smiling.

"No, we can't," Bilbo said. "Come here, Smaug."

Smaug hesitated, but then fluttered over to Bilbo. "The water doesn't want me to cross," he whispered in the hobbit's ear. "It says it'll swallow me if I try."

Bilbo frowned. "Can't you just fly over it very high?"

"That would make the elves angry," Smaug said, clinging to Bilbo's shoulder.

"He's right," Gandalf said. "He should not enter without invitation. But if I am not mistaken, someone is coming who can grant such an invitation."

Indeed, a tall elf was approaching on the other side of the river. "You think we would invite a dragon?" he asked, but he was smirking.

"Smaug has been here before," Bilbo said defiantly, crossing his arms.

"And yet the water still considers him an enemy. What does that mean?" The elf looked intently at Smaug.

"That he is a dragon," Gandalf said, smiling. "And dragons are changeable creatures. The waters err on the side of caution when it comes to such things. And rightly so."

Smaug sniffled. "I'm not going to hurt anyone," he muttered.

"The last time the dragon was granted our hospitality, he was safely locked up. You, Mithrandir and Master Baggins, were indeed our friends, and you were travelling through these lands holding a prisoner. Yet now the dragon is carried along as if you are convinced he is a friend. Have you not learned anything about that changeable nature of dragons? Are you sure your trust has not been misplaced?"

Bilbo glared at the elf, but it was Radagast who spoke.

"He is nice," the wizard said, stammering a little. "My rabbits trust him. They're Rhosgobel rabbits, you know."

The elf frowned. "We trust the Brown Wizard's judgement in the matters of natural life. But we will keep an eye on you, dragon. And I hope that you, who bring him, are not taking advantage of our friendship."

Then he looked down and muttered something to the river.

Smaug breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his grip on Bilbo's jacket.

Gandalf huffed. "Good," he said. "Now that we got that sorted, can we go on? I would like to be granted some more hospitality as soon as possible. Preferably inside a nicely warm room."

The elf smiled. "Of course. I will bring you to our Lord Elrond. My name is Lindir, by the way. _Mae tollen na Imladris_."

"Thank you," Bilbo mumbled.

"What was that?" Smaug asked. "What did he say? Is he doing magic?"

Bilbo giggled a little. "He was welcoming us, silly. Don't you know any Elvish?"

"Why should I?" Smaug asked huffily. "They've never bothered to actually speak to me. They just fire arrows and tell me to go away."

"Oh!" Radagast suddenly called out, startling Bilbo. "I've just remembered!"

"What?" Bilbo asked.

"What I was doing! I should rush to Fornost. Ohh, I'll probably be late." He gathered his rabbits and turned the sled around.

"But... You were coming with us," Bilbo said, confused.

Radagast turned around. "Sorry. I'm sure we'll meet another time. Goodbye, goodbye!"

Smaug took off and fluttered over to the rabbits. "Don't leave," he urged them.

Radagast smiled and held out his hand to him. "I promise we'll visit you again," he said. "We wouldn't want to miss our favourite dragon."

Smaug flew up and settled on it. "You'll come see me?" he asked. "Play with me? Soon?"

Radagast nodded, beaming. "I'm glad you value my company too, dear friend."

Smaug made a small squeak. "I do," he whispered. "Friend..."

Bilbo smiled as Smaug fluttered back to him, and they kept watching as Radagast told his rabbits to hurry.

By that time, Lindir had walked back. For a while he waited patiently, but once the wizard and his rabbits were out of sight, he finally said: "Can you follow me, please?"


End file.
